by Gary Hoover
Artimus was taken off guard for a moment. He hadn’t anticipated an opportunity to have any real say, so it took him a moment to collect his thoughts.
“Well, we need to begin assembling and arming a real army capable of defending against a potentially major invasion force. We also need to begin talking with the Doclotnurians, so we can join forces and coordinate efforts.”
Duanan shook his head and smiled. “Friend, you know we can’t do those things. Armies and weapons cost money... a LOT of money, and times are tough. We’re in the middle of a drought, and that’s driving up costs across the board. People are suffering. Besides, we’re a peaceful people. We don’t believe in wars and violence. Armies lead to war, even if there was no threat to begin with.
“And as for the Doclotnurians, well, we’ve already been all over that, haven’t we? You’ve lost that battle, old friend, the people have spoken–”
Duanan was interrupted by a loud banging on the door.
His face turned from pleasant to enraged with a swiftness that startled Artimus. “What is it?” he shouted angrily.
The door opened, and Duanan’s head of security, Roho, thrust her head through the opening. “Forgive me, Governor, your assistant wasn’t at his desk, but–” She suddenly noticed Artimus and became uncomfortable. “I need to talk to you.”
“Artimus, could you please give us a few minutes,” Duanan said with a frustrated tone.
Artimus got to his feet. He was annoyed at being brushed aside and he allowed his expression to show it, but he made his way out, closed the door behind him and took a seat on a hard, wooden chair.
He crossed his arms across his chest and exhaled loudly, trying to maintain his temper.
He heard Duanan shouting, loudly enough that his words could be heard clearly through the closed door. “What do you mean failed!?!?”
Then his voice dropped, and Artimus could only hear muffled murmuring. But that outburst had caught his interest.
He leaned closer to the wall and then put his ear against it. He could hear more clearly, but he realized his back was to the door. He didn’t want to be caught in such a position, so he turned his head to use the other ear.
“Dead?! How is that even possible?”
“I’m... I’m sorry Governor.”
“I would have expected them to be up to such a task. I would have expected you to have chosen only people up to such a task.”
“I’m... I’m working on alternative options.”
Artimus saw Duanan’s assistant approaching and quickly moved away from the wall.
Chapter 27:
Jeff put a hand on the railing and looked up the stairs.
He began climbing.
Something’s not right.
More climbing.
The stairs seemed to just keep going.
Oh hell, I’m dreaming again.
He continued to climb.
I’m in Artimus’ house.
He finally reached the landing and heard music coming from a room. He walked toward the sound.
As he stood in the doorway, the woman (Artimus’ wife, Baldwin and Nahima’s mother), Nafeesa, turned around and gasped, clearly startled.
“I’m sorry,” Jeff said, but then realized he wasn’t the cause of her alarm.
A darkly clad figure passed by Jeff, as if he hadn’t even been present. Nafeesa stood, paralyzed by fear, as the man approached her with alarming speed. Jeff tried to run toward them but couldn’t move. He couldn’t do anything but watch helplessly as the man grasped her head firmly and twisted it. There was a sickening snapping, crunching sound, and she went limp.
Jeff felt helpless and sick. His heart was pounding, and he was having trouble breathing.
The man reached under Nafeesa’s arms and lifted her just enough to drag her toward the door.
Jeff felt himself starting to float away and lose focus. He concentrated to try to bring himself back and do something, but his body wasn’t responding to his commands.
The man dragged her out onto the landing, and Jeff tried to get a look at his face. It was shadowy, and he had trouble seeing the features. The face seemed oddly familiar though he couldn’t place it.
He knew what was coming next, because he had seen this part before. The man threw Nafeesa’s body violently down the steps and stood silently for several moments after it had stopped moving.
Jeff woke and gasped for breath.
“You all right?” Baldwin asked. He was at a table with some wooden sticks that had bands of various colors painted on them. Jeff had learned that the sticks were similar to playing cards with many different variations of games possible.
“Yeah,” Jeff said as he rubbed his eyes and temples. “Just had a weird dream.”
The group’s schedule had become less and less regular, but they were making good progress. Nahima and Dave generally took turns driving, but Jeff, Baldwin and, to Dave’s discomfort, Rasp, had all taken turns. Generally speaking, everybody was most comfortable when Dave or Nahima were driving... including Dave and Nahima.
“I don’t understand what’s wrong,” Nahima said.
“I don’t underssand wotzzz rung.”
Nahima was working with Rasp on his language.
“Why don’t you teach him something he can use,” Dave said from the driver’s seat. “How about, ‘Where are your babies? I’m hungry and need to feed.’?” Dave said with a grin.
“I don’t eat babeeezzz,” Rasp said with a mixture of anger and confusion.
“I think your language is actually okay. What we need to work on is your sense of humor,” Dave said, rolling his eyes.
“Wot izzzz humorrr?”
“You want to know what humor is? I’ll give you an example. A six foot tall ugly, scaly, nasty talking lizard goes on a back-ended mission to find some crazy, old, and probably dead ‘prophet’ with a bunch of kids. Now that’s some funny plooch there. Heh, heh.... heh, heh, heh... HEH, HEH, HEH.”
Dave’s laughter was near maniacal.
Jeff shook his head. “Hey, Baldwin.”
“Yeah?”
“Can I talk to you about something... personal?” Jeff fidgeted uncomfortably.
“Uh... okay.” Baldwin got up from the table and walked toward Jeff. As he approached, Jeff moved away from him and led him a little farther from the others.
“You remember when you told me about your mother falling down the steps?” Jeff asked quietly.
Baldwin eyed him suspiciously and a little uncomfortably. “Yeahhhhhh.”
“And it was an accident?”
“Yeahhhhhh.”
“Well... uhhhh.” Jeff was looking at the floor. He looked up at Baldwin, saw his sour expression, then looked quickly back at the floor. “Are you–” He forced himself to meet Baldwin’s eyes. “Are you absolutely sure it was an accident?”
“YES!” Baldwin said very loudly and emphatically. Rasp and Nahima both looked over to see what was going on. “Why would you even ask something like that?” he said more quietly but with some remaining agitation.
“Look, I don’t want to get you upset. And I realize this is a sensitive subject – and none of my business.”
“You’re right.” Baldwin pointed a finger at Jeff. “It’s none of your business.” He walked a few feet, turned and sat down heavily on his bunk. He clearly would have liked to have been able to put more distance between himself and Jeff, but the quarters were too cramped to do much more than a symbolic, huffy exit. He picked up a small computer and tried to busy himself.
“Sorry,” Jeff said weakly.
He went back to the table at which Baldwin had been sitting and dropped himself into the now vacant chair.
He fidgeted and wished everybody would go back to what they were doing, but Nahima and Rasp had clearly been thrown off their rhythm by the incident. Jeff hoped they hadn’t heard but was afraid they may have overheard parts of the conversation in the small cabin.
Nahima pulled her chair nearer to his,
and the scraping sound had a harsh tone in the now quiet hold.
Nahima looked over at Baldwin, then back at Jeff. She leaned in close. “You know, I’ve always suspected there might have been something more than an accident.”
“Really?” Jeff realized it wasn’t appropriate to be happy at such news, but he couldn’t help feeling there was something important to be learned. “Was there any evidence of anything unusual?”
Nahima shook her head, “Nothing specific, just bits and pieces... and a strong feeling that something else was going on.”
A month ago, Jeff would have dismissed anything based on a ‘feeling’, but he had seen first-hand how his own feelings had been eerily accurate.
Jeff saw Baldwin eying the two of them angrily. Nahima saw Jeff’s uncomfortable expression, looked over her shoulder, and then spoke in a loud voice, “OH, DON”T WORRY ABOUT HIM. HE CAN BE A BABY AND IGNORE IT IF HE WANTS, BUT SHE WAS MY MOTHER LONGER THAN SHE WAS HIS.”
Baldwin huffed angrily and then hid his face behind his computer. Nahima went back to a quiet, conversational tone. “She was a reporter; not a really hard-hitting investigative journalist. She spent most of her time covering social events, but she mentioned to me that she may have stumbled upon an interesting story that she wanted to flesh out. She didn’t say that it was dangerous, but you can imagine any story that was really interesting could embarrass someone…” Her voice trailed off, and she seemed to be running things through her mind.
Jeff felt sure she had spent a lot of time thinking about this, but probably had never discussed it in any detail.
“Anything else?” Jeff asked. “Did she have any notes or anything?”
Nahima shook her head. “Nothing we could ever find.”
“Well isn’t that awfully odd in itself? I mean if she was working on a story that she thought might be big, why wouldn’t she have any notes?” As Jeff was saying that, he thought he might know why. He suspected the murderer may have taken the notes with him, and he made a mental note to try to stay asleep long enough next time to see if he could observe more.
Chapter 28:
“Any news from Andrew?” Artimus asked as he peeked through the curtains.
“He says his intelligence reports are indicating a lot of pheerion activity. Looks like things may be heating up, but let’s keep focused on tonight.” Codi patted his arm. “How many are out there?”
Artimus’ face dropped. “Maybe eight or nine,” he said with an awkward smile.
It was a large church and basically empty with so few people. Artimus was a bishop at the church, but that was a mostly symbolic title, and he was generally more occupied with his governmental responsibilities. He had made it clear that his speech was political and not church related, but the church provided a venue that was often used for such community gatherings.
“Eight or nine?” Codi was clearly disappointed, but quickly forced a smile. “These may be the ones we really need to reach.”
Artimus shook his head without realizing he was doing it. “Thanks. We’ll see what we can do. On a different topic, I’ve got a big favor to run by you. No obligation; feel free to just say no.”
“What is it? You’re making me nervous.”
“Well, Duanan has always liked you.”
Codi had been working for Artimus for about four years, but before that, she had worked for Duanan. She left and took a non-government job but came back after approximately a year and asked Artimus if he had an opening. Artimus snapped her up, and Duanan often joked about what a fool he had been to ever let Artimus have her.
“I think if you asked him for a job, he’d jump at the opportunity,” Artimus finished.
“Are you dismissing me?” she asked, her voice shaking slightly.
“No!” He put his hands on her shoulders and looked her directly in the eye. “No. Of course not, but I overheard some strange things the other day.” He lowered his voice. “He was talking to his chief of security, and he was shouting, clearly angry. He said something about somebody dying.”
Codi put her hand over her mouth, and there was a pause before she spoke. “Could it just be something taken out of context?”
“Probably.” Artimus smiled as he seemed to be thinking. “Probably. I’m likely getting a little paranoid in my old age, which is why it’s good to have you around to keep me grounded.”
Codi’s expression became slightly annoyed. “Then why are you trying to get rid of me?”
Artimus smiled. “Come on now. You know I’m not trying to get rid of you. But even if I’m crazy on this detail, it would be good to know a little bit more about what Duanan is thinking and doing.” Artimus was still very interested in the locket, but didn’t want to mention that detail yet.
Codi nodded. “I guess it could be useful. It’s just–” She seemed to be deep in thought. While Artimus felt somewhat sure that Duanan liked Codi, he wasn’t very clear on what her feelings regarding him were. He had never really asked about the circumstances that had led to her leaving Duanan those five years ago, and he hoped there wasn’t some bad history there.
“It’s just… me? A spy?” She lowered her voice conspiratorially. “Do you think I could even do it?”
Artimus hugged her. “I’ve never known you to not do wonderfully at anything you’ve tried.”
“What should I tell him? Why should I tell him I’m looking for another job?”
Artimus looked down at her and there, in his embrace, she seemed so comfortable... and beautiful. “I don’t know. I figured you’d be able to think of something better than I could.”
“I could tell him I can’t work for you, because I’m interested in you romantically. I don’t want our romantic and working relationships to conflict.”
Artimus blushed. “If that’s the story you’d like to go with.”
Chapter 29:
Artimus walked awkwardly down the long aisle that led to the centrally located lectern. Loosen up, relax, he told himself.
A few more people had trickled in, but it was still a tiny crowd.
“Why don’t you all come up here and fill in the front chairs,” he said gesturing as he arrived at the lectern. “No need to be so formal with such a small group.”
The few people filed down and filled in some of the front seats.
Artimus stepped around the lectern and took a seat on a set of steps that led from the seating area to the raised central stage. I hate to think it, but... what a bunch of freaks.
One audience member who caught Artimus’ attention was a tall, gaunt man who appeared to be in his fifties. He was dressed in some sort of fur jacket with matching pants, and he wore a hat that seemed to be made of the head of a very large rodent. There were red lights mounted in the eye sockets that glowed eerily in the dimly lit auditorium. The man’s eyes were darting nervously, moving around the room and pausing momentarily on various people and objects.
“Thank you. Thank you all for coming,” Artimus began. “I had some prepared words, but, since there are so few of us, I think I’ll throw that away and have a less formal program. I’ll tell you a little bit about what’s on my mind, and then we can have a discussion.
“I hope you know, from the announcements of the event, that I’m concerned that we could be in danger of an imminent attack by the pheerions. I was involved in a small battle a few weeks ago, and while we prevailed in that effort, I don’t feel we defeated them soundly enough that they would be completely dissuaded from trying again.”
An elderly woman in a dress that was too formal for the event, but also clearly stained and wrinkled, raised her hand.
“Uhhhh... ” Artimus was taken a little off guard but decided to see what she had to say. “Yes? Do you have a question?”
“Was the gun they had terrible? It looked to be terribly powerful in the videos we saw.”
“Yes, it was.”
“And they had some sort of impenetrable shield, right? Something that the Doclotnurians couldn’t dent wit
h their most powerful weapons, right?”
Artimus nodded. “Yes.”
“So the combination of those two devices made a small band of pheerions nearly unbeatable. If you and your colleagues had not been able to remove their ‘key’, things could have ended very badly, right?”
“Yes. Things looked quite dire.”
“So where is everyone?” The woman gestured to indicate the nearly empty auditorium.
Artimus had no answer for that and sat there silently for several moments.
“Why are our leaders not more concerned?” the woman continued. “Why are we not doing everything within our power to defend ourselves against such an ominous threat?” The woman’s voice was quivering with anger and frustration. Artimus knew exactly how she felt.
“I wish I knew–”
A man leapt to his feet and began to speak excitedly. It was the man who was wearing the rodent on his head: “I’ll tell you why. Our politicians, and I’m talking about people at the TOP LEVELS, our leaders–” The word seemed to leave a sour taste on his tongue. “Are in the pockets of the pheerions. If ordered to do so, they would get down on their knees and lick the boots of Pheerion Rex.”
The man gesticulated wildly, and Artimus felt a mixture of emotions. He was partly amused but trying to conceal any expression of that while listening and maintaining eye contact. He was also a bit frightened that the man could be dangerous. As the man gestured, Artimus could see the butt of a firearm beneath his fur coat.
“They toast his greatness and, every evening, light candles at little altars made from buttons and reptile teeth to praise the greatness of the–” The man stopped speaking, and a strange expression washed over him.
Artimus feared he may have been on the verge of a seizure. Artimus discretely moved his hand toward the butt of his own concealed weapon, not sure if he should try to help the man, or defend himself from him, or maybe both.
The man seemed to be catching his breath, though the energy seemed to have been transferred to his eyes which were darting more quickly than they had been before.
As he stood there, breathing heavily, Artimus began to wonder if that’s what he looked like to other people.
