Theodore

by Marcus LaGrone

  56

  Theodore sat with Bill and the twins in the canteen while they waited for news of Janice Westmore. Theodore was in no mood to be social, but he was in less of a mood to be left alone.

  “Well, going to a dance with Theodore does seem to be exciting,” grinned Maurice.

  “Can't say it was ever that exciting when I took it,” replied Marcel.

  “Wrong semester maybe?”

  “Could be!”

  Theodore tried to roll with the twins, but the waiting was killing him. He just let out a small meow and rested his head on the table.

  “Drink your lemonade. You are dehydrated,” mothered Bill.

  “Not interested...”

  “I don't care if you are interested,” groused Bill. “You need fluids. Now drink up or I'll have Saundra put an IV in you.”

  “She did make a mess of Colm,” offered Theodore with a feeble grin. He poked at his drink and gave it a quick taste. Maybe something stronger instead...

  “I can hear those gears turning from here. Alcohol will just make the dehydration worse.”

  “And would put a damper on his keen personality,” added one of the twins. Theodore was too tired to care which one...

  All eyes went to Tim as he walked in with a practiced blank face. “He finish his second lemonade yet?”

  “He hasn't finished his first,” replied Bill.

  Tim walked over to the counter and came back with a glass of water and set it in front of Theodore. “Drink one or the other.”

  “Tell me what you found out first.”

  “No. You drink first. You agreed to be a good boy when we dropped you off here. And it seems you haven't.”

  Theodore growled and slammed the water. The lemonade tasted better but water went down faster and didn't get his fur sticky...

  “The Home Office had no comment about the condition or whereabouts of Dr. Janice Westmore. They did not even confirm if she was on or off planet,” began Tim with a practiced meter. “When we inquired with the Foreign Office, they revoked our standing paperwork without comment and refused to talk with us.”

  “Neither is a good sign. So is it true then?”

  “I know a quick way to find out. Bill, you game for doing a rotation with the Shukurae's 319th CSOG?”

  “Not until this is over!” replied Bill somewhat shocked.

  “He is trying to end it,” observed Marcel.

  “We do double-talk well,” replied Maurice.

  Tim grinned, “There is a certain truth to those two...”

  “Um, so is the 319th rotating in planet?” asked Bill suddenly catching on.

  “Not exactly, the Ambassador-at-Large for the Highlands has asked for 'help' and the 319th has offered their assistance.”

  “Hell, yes, I'm in!” fired back Bill.

  “Load up, we move out in half an hour. You coming too, Theodore?”

  “What Bill said!”

  “Um, so if the ambassador for the Highlands is in the loop then I guess you do know,” prodded Theodore as they waited for the drop ship.

  Tim frowned, “Don't try to bluff the college kids, they actually pay attention... Yes, she has been in the loop for longer than you might imagine.”

  “I take it she was brought in when you were assigned to babysit.”

  Tim grinned, “Actually, no. Your name was in the mix when you first started college here. A minor going to school offworld... Your name went to the top of the watch list when there was that targeted attack against you last year.”

  “Um... wow? I didn't know I was causing so many problems.”

  That got a proper laugh out of Tim, “That is her job! It helps that there aren't a whole heck of a lot of Highlanders out there. If it wasn't the social respect the Highlands have amongst the other Taiks, you guys would probably be lost in the paperwork from a hundred years ago, you guys are so darn tiny. That's not true... The Shukurae would have kept you out front and center even if the other Taiks hadn't.”

  “Um, the Shukurae need to give it a rest,” laughed Theodore. “We helped them with their civil war over two hundred years ago!”

  Tim frowned, “I don't think you appreciate how much Highlanders have done for the Shukurae in the intervening years. Two hundred years ago was just the start of a bizarre but militarily effective relationship.”

  Theodore just shook his head, “Hey, my parents are artists. Heck my father even turned down work for the constables because he wanted to be around my mothers. I guess I missed out on hearing all the stories. Such things just seemed to make my dad squeamish.”

  “Your father is the second most amazing Highlander I've ever met that didn't have a military tradition,” observed Tim.

  Theodore laughed, “I think he'd get a good laugh out of hearing that. So, who's the first.”

  “His son: Theodore Blackford.”

  Theodore felt is fur start to spike, “Um, that's me...”

  “Yep! Yes, indeed. And your fur still stands on end at the slightest provocation...” Tim turned and looked Theodore square in the eyes, “Things are going to get a lot worse before they get better. We know Edwin will make sure of that. But promise me one thing: listen and remember your father's words...”

  “Well, of course...”

  “No,” interrupted Tim. “There is still fear in your eyes. You are going to have to let that go and trust your father. Trust what he has taught you no matter how weird or unpleasant it may seem. Trust him. Completely.”

  “I have! I mean look at what happened with Colm!”

  “No... there was still hesitation and fear in your eyes...”

  “This sounds kinda weird coming from a human...”

  Tim laughed, “I've served alongside enough Highlanders to recognize a really special one. Besides, if it is the truth, it shouldn't matter if it comes from an insane person.”

  “Like you for example...”

  Tim got a good belly laugh from that, “I'm not crazy, I just have a low tolerance for boredom!” He wiped his eyes and continued more seriously, “Just trust your father. Please.”

  Theodore smiled, “I think I can do that.”

  57

  Theodore sat in a large briefing room filled with over two hundred serious looking Shukurae, two dozen Highland Taiks and easily fifty humans. Not counting Tim and his crew! The Highlands Old Tongue was the de facto language and the only people seeming to have an issue with that were Bill, Paul and Saundra. It was odd hearing Shukurae speak the Old Tongue. Heck, it was odd hearing them talk at all: they all spoke in a deep baritone in a chord. Two voices speaking at once separated by a perfect fourth. Very strange to listen to!

  The head of the group was introduced as Line Centurion Damesk, a rather stout lady with a broken tusk. A scar she seemed to pay no mind. “We are going in under the auspices of the Unified Treaty Diplomatic Security Service under the retainer of Ambassador Kathleen Rockford of the Highland regions of Afon. We will be causing problems. That is up to the various politicians to resolve. There is going to be political fallout regardless of what happens as Lady Rockford has already petitioned to have the security status of this rock dropped to a '5'. The happy people at the Grauer Institute for International Policy support her, so it’s a rounded tusk it’s going to happen. Already travel warnings are being issued much to the chagrin of these... people. Terteska Prime, rather boring industrial/commercial planet. Base population is eight billion and is three nines five human. We will stick out.”

  That earned a few laughs from the crowd.

  “Only immediate point is its atmosphere is only nineteen percent oxygen, but we will be operating near sea level so that is almost rounding error. Well less than the difference if we had been operating at 1km up. Our recovery target is a Dr. Janice Westmore, human. You should all have images of her in your files. A known problem is going to be an expat Silver by the name of Edwin Blackford, cousin to our charge in the back of the room, Theodore Blackford.” Her eyes fixed heavily on Theodore, “Is
there going to be bad blood if he goes down, Lord Theodore?”

  Theodore blinked and cleared his throat, “There may be bad blood back home if he is left standing.”

  That caused a rather creepy round of snickering from the Shukurae.

  “Blood in the water,” grinned Tim. “They are like sharks that way...”

  Theodore flinched. He didn't really want anyone else hurt or killed, but Edwin had to be stopped. The baritone giggles from the masses played havoc with his nerves.

  “We have one agent in the field who may be able to flush things, but ultimately we start with the interview of Dr. Thomas Westmore. Presently in protective custody by their Federal Police.”

  “The fink turned himself in?” growled Theodore.

  “Indeed. It appears he did not approve of his estranged wife being involved.”

  “At least he isn't a complete waste...”

  “We have been granted a fifteen minute window to talk with him. Things to consider: we are unsure how much we trust any of these people and they have no idea that Lord Theodore will be the one doing the interview.”

  “Me? My relation with his daughter may sour the whole situation.”

  “So long as he is still breathing when you leave the room, I have no concerns how you conduct your interview.”

  “Ever play 'good cop-bad cop?'” asked Tim with a grin.

  Theodore just sighed. Not again...

  Five Shukurae heavy assault gunships descended on the Federal Police's “safe house.” It wasn't staying incognito very long. A dozen Shukurae and four Highlanders joined Theodore, Tim and Bill on the roof. Theodore grinned as he noticed all the gunships had already been equipped with JATO bottles. Leaving was going to happen in a hurry and wasn't going to be quiet.

  “You people have fifteen minutes with the suspect. Don't rough him up or...”

  “Or what?” snarled Tim. “Don't forget, he's still due for extradition when you fine people are done with him.”

  “Keep it professional, mister!” the man snapped back. His eyes suddenly went wide as he recognized Theodore, “He can't go in!”

  “He is our designated representative, therefore he will be going in,” replied a very gruff Shukurae.

  “You don't understand...”

  “We are going in and we are not asking for permission,” grinned Tim. “If our host doesn't open the lock, blow it.”

  “Stand to for cutting charges,” came a call from the back.

  “You'll pay for this!” snarled the man as he opened the door and led them in.

  “Good, start a tab.”

  The man just glared as he led them downstairs and up to a secure door. “You have fifteen minutes. Make them count, because I never want to see any of you ever again.”

  Tim smiled and nodded, “Thank you.”

  The door opened to reveal a room with very spartan furniture and the shackled form of Thomas Westmore shuffling about. He snarled as he made eye contact with Theodore, “You! This is all your fault!”

  “Hey! He remembers you!” grinned Tim.

  Tim, Bill and two of the largest Shukurae Theodore had ever seen followed him into the room. “You guys hang back; let me talk to him.”

  Thomas laughed as he plopped behind a small table. “Have a seat! Grab a bottle of wine; we can pretend we like each other!”

  Theodore sat in the offered chair across from Thomas, “This isn't about either of us. This is about Janice. We both want to make sure nothing happens to her.”

  “So, how have she and Anna taken to your backwater pit? Starving and living on the good graces of others?”

  “They are both doing quite well. They recently helped deliver my newest sister. They named her Deidre after a nice lady who has offered up her house for two whiskers at the wedding. The whole town has taken completely to Anna and Janice is having a field day visiting all the nearby towns. It appears her old calling of 'anthropologist' is mixing well with 'doctor.'”

  “Anna will never fit in...”

  “Says the person that hasn't even visited our town. As fun as it is to be chatty, the point at hand is Janice. Do you know where they are holding her?”

  Thomas scoffed, “You think you have a chance in hell of rescuing her?”

  “I have friends. I came with friends. Twenty-five Highlanders, sixty humans and two-hundred rough and ready Shukurae are all ready to go toe to claw with these monsters.”

  “Eh,” interrupted Tim with a grin, “only fifty nine humans.”

  “Thomas could volunteer,” countered Bill with a sinister grin. “That'd take it up to an even sixty.”

  “You people are crazy, you know that?” snarled Thomas.

  “Nah, they just get bored easily,” grinned Theodore before taking a more serious tone, “We both know the local police aren't going to be that helpful and I doubt you have enough money to buy her freedom. That leaves us as her best chance to get out alive.”

  “They don't want money,” began Thomas with a grin. “They just want you!”

  Theodore would have asked what Thomas had meant by that but a series of linear shaped charges detonating in the floor interrupted his thought process. The floor around him exploded and he suddenly found himself in free-fall down a disused elevator shaft.

  58

  Theodore spread out his arms in free-fall and tried to orient himself as he plunged down the shaft. It was wider than a normal elevator, probably a service or freight elevator. He could dimly make out lights far at the bottom and nearby emergency service lights blinked in and out as a blur as he fell past them. His armor had served him well during the explosion: it had come up so quickly that his hearing was fine. A far cry from that night in the canteen those many months ago. He was pretty certain he could deflect to the side and come grinding to a halt someplace early, but it was a given he was expected down below: the explosion had expertly and precisely cut a hole in the floor. Had they strictly been trying to kill him, it would have been a shaped charge of some type or a large charge loaded with shrapnel. No. He was being invited to meet someone far below.

  Edwin. Theodore was certain of it. The Bella-Shoana had been very direct about wanting to simply kill him. No, Edwin wanted to stand him down in a direct fight. He could only assume that Edwin knew his brother Colm had already been defeated, otherwise Theodore wouldn't even be there.

  Theodore cringed as explosions ripped through various floors as he passed by them. Were they just trying to rattle him? Why the extra carnage? Floor! More important things to think about! He relaxed and was able to execute a landing light on his feet with none of the traditional damage of an armor slam from such a height. The pelt rain of debris from overhead encouraged him forward in the obvious landing and he found what he had been expecting: a challenge.

  Take the subway as directed if you wish to see Janice alive. It was painted in half meter high letters in the Highland Old Tongue. Spray paint. How tacky; why not use a brush, mind your strokes and form and show a little more pride in your work? Theodore laughed to himself as Fiona and Charlotte's aesthetic chimed in the back of his head.

  A rumbling in the distance alerted Theodore to the aforementioned freight subway and he moved deeper into the basement. The rest of the team was certain to be following, but if he knew Edwin half as well as he feared, then things would go poorly for Janice if he stalled for time and waited for reinforcements. In a repeat of the path just a few months earlier, he threaded his way toward the subway tracks. High overhead was a simple spray painted arrow dictating the direction of travel. There was already a train heading that way at a miserly pace so he ran and jumped on the back of a freight car. The cargo subway soon picked up speed and barreled down the long tunnels while Theodore strained for a sign or signal for when to exit.

  The minutes rolled by and kilometers of the subterranean foundation of the city scrolled by for his viewing. Theodore was a little concerned that Edwin may have marked his exit in an area and not properly considered changes in lighting. It
was a given Edwin was going to leave a mark after all this trouble, but he may not have thought things through... His stomach rolled as he saw a crimson red arrow sprawled across the wall and a decapitated body on the platform, the source of the gruesome coloring.

  Theodore jumped from the subway car and rolled onto the landing taking extra care not to paint his fur with the floor's vile tint. A long dark hall greeted him and he casually but cautiously moved as directed. There were more arrows providing 'helpful' guidance as he moved deeper into a truly mammoth structure. The paths twisted, turned and forked almost at random as he pressed on. It was unclear if this was an offbeat path or if Edwin was making sure Theodore was thoroughly confused as to his location. Either that or just making things take longer as some exotic mind game. Both were at a loss: Theodore's head was level and clear and his sense of navigation was exceptional. Many Highlanders when visiting big cities easily became confused in the urban canyons, but Theodore, while not liking big cities, had at least become used to their disorienting effects.

  Theodore's fur started to crawl... it wasn't the maze of tunnels: someone was behind him. Someone expertly quiet was following some distance behind, but Theodore could still pick him out in the long resounding tunnels. He doubted it was Edwin, he wanted some stupid face off. No, this was someone else, most likely someone to make sure Theodore went down even if Edwin failed. No... when Edwin failed.

  Whoever it was had found their minimum safe distance and wasn't getting any closer. Theodore wanted to growl at his shadow but he knew it wouldn't help. No... this wasn't supposed to be easy. That was Edwin's point.

  A solid steel security door blocked his path. No sign of a passkey or anything of the sort. Just a bare security door. Theodore relaxed and invoked a Live Steel sword and just barely touched its tip to the door and felt. He strained his senses listening to the blade itself. His greatest fear was Janice was immediately on the other side of the door and if he cut through the door he might kill her by the cut, or by the press if the steel door fell on her. That was about what he expected from Edwin based on the stories... He felt nothing of the sort but caution gave way as he shallow cut the door at a hard angle so it fell backward toward him rather than inward.