The Elitist Supremacy

by Niranjan K

  “And how’s Paige?”

  “Oh, she’s doing very well.” David was almost vibrating with enthusiasm now. “Alexander found me a private tutor for Paige, and she’s a real marvel.” He shook his head, a rueful smile on his face. “Look at me, babbling when poor Sergio is not even cold.” He looked at the Investigators and a look of distaste appeared on his face. “I really hate this. The doctor said Sergio died of a heart attack, and yet, they will keep harassing us.”

  Nolan wanted to say they were just doing their job, but Ms. Chernova turned her head to look at him, and he swallowed his words. His heart was hammering, and he could feel sweat break out on his forehead. His hands felt clammy where he had clasped them behind his back. He stiffened as she made her way to him.

  “Everything seems on the up,” she said. “The records indicate that he had a heart condition, and the doctor confirms that the attack might have been sudden and death nearly instantaneous. The Sentient notified the Defenders and the hospital as soon as his vitals started fluctuating, but-” She shrugged. “In the absence of near relatives, Mr. Selwood will be required to sign the paperwork. Tell him to call on the nearest Defender Base as soon as he reaches,”

  “Yes, Ms. Chernova,” he said. “I’ll inform him. Thank you.”

  She looked at him, something avid in her gaze. “Your name is Nolan Patrick?”

  He nodded, sweat beading on his forehead again. Why was she asking his name?

  “Interesting,” she said as she turned from him and made a gesture to the Defenders, who put Mr. Martinez’s body on a wide tube-like structure. One of them pressed a switch on the side and the tube disappeared. Nolan had heard of the body storage units used to keep bodies in Nishati until claimed, but he’d never seen one before.

  The Defenders and the Investigators disappeared soon after and Nolan and the others made their way out of the house. He wished they could just teleport back to their homes, but June wasn’t equipped to handle it.

  “June,” Nolan said once he was outside the door. “Lock the house down until Mr. Selwood returns, okay?”

  He nearly rolled his eyes for making it sound like a request. Sentients were not alive, and they would obey orders. There was no need to request them.

  “House is being locked down,” June said, as the front door closed and shutters descended over all the doors and windows.

  A large hover bus with the company logo was waiting out in the street. Nolan climbed in, and sat next to Robyn. Her blazer looked warmer than the thin shirt he had put on in a hurry when the Defenders had started banging on his bedroom door. The doors of the bus closed and the heaters started warming him up as the bus rose slowly before picking up speed.

  “Thanks for the ride,” he said, indicating the bus.

  “I called for it as soon as I arrived. I had a feeling they would leave us out here. I don’t know how those Defenders expected us to make it home.”

  “I expect they didn’t think it has anything to do with them,” he said.

  “They don’t,” She agreed. “What did that woman want with you? She asked me more about you than about poor Sergio.”

  Nolan stared at her in surprise. “She asked my name,” he said. “And I can’t think why she should be interested in me. I’ve never even seen her before. What did she ask you?”

  “General things, but personal, about your parents, siblings. Told her it was all confidential, that I couldn’t tell her anything without Mr. Selwood’s approval or without just cause, and she wasn’t too happy.” She paused. “Be careful,” Robyn’s voice was low. “It‘s not good when the Elite starts getting interested in you.”

  Nolan gulped again, wishing once more that Mr. Selwood was back. It was probably irrational since there was nothing Mr. Selwood could have done, but he still wished for it.

  Twenty Two

  The Central Console of the Elite was in a large building in the heart of Nizhoni. Valeria Chernova materialised within the building after her interrogation of the employees of Selwood Corp. She walked across the white tiled floor, to reach a large monitoring station, where two young men sat.

  “Is Saito in?” she asked as she reached them, her eyes drifting over the monitors.

  “He’s been asking for you, darling,” Konrad Stein drawled, leaning back in his chair, his green eyes full of mockery. Valeria held his gaze steady, till his haughty expression morphed into vaguely uncomfortable and he turned his head away.

  “Is there something you need, Valeria?” Rishabh Verma asked, his dark eyes not leaving the gaming console in his hands.

  “Can you get into the servers of Selwood Corp?” she asked.

  Konrad whistled, his expression changing into one of curiosity.

  “I thought the dead guy died of natural causes,” he said.

  “He was poisoned.” she said dismissively. “But none of them did it.”

  “How did the doctor miss it?” Konrad demanded.

  “Because it’s a poison that no one in this time is familiar with. Zhidium.”

  “That’s impossible!” Konrad said, and she had the satisfaction of realising she had rattled him. “How could anyone have got their hands on it?”

  “Which is why I said it was none of them,” she said. “Also, Sergio Martinez wasn’t who he said he was. We found out when we checked his DNA.” She paused to make sure he was listening, and dropped her bombshell. “He is Felipe Diaz, son of the executed traitor Pablo Diaz.”

  Konrad swore. “I thought we’d gotten rid of all those Diaz scum!”

  “And I told you that there was one more.” she said smugly.

  “But wait,” Konrad said. “That means Alexander Selwood hired someone without DNA verification.”

  She sighed. For an intelligent man, Konrad could be quite stupid. “DNA verification is not yet mandatory,” she said. “Despite how much we push him, Saito refuses to make it so!”

  “Most companies still do it,” he said, disgruntled.

  “Because they want to cover their asses,” she said.

  “How did you know it was Zhidium?” Konrad asked, his brow furrowed. “It leaves no trace.”

  She nearly rolled her eyes. “No, but it leaves behind certain residual effects on the body, or have you forgotten all your lessons?”

  “What did you expect?” He shrugged carelessly. “It’s been centuries since we’ve used it.”

  Valeria tried not to roll her eyes. Konrad talked as if he’d been around for those centuries when he’d been made part of the Elite only twenty years ago.

  “Doesn’t mean we should forget it,” she said, not trying to hide her disapproval.

  “The boss has been wanting to talk to Selwood,” Konrad said, in another quick change of topic. His voice was full of glee. “He’s been making us monitor him.”

  Valeria thought for a moment before saying, “I thought the boss was in that—what was the name of that Solar System again—Amroe?”

  “Perhaps we can hold Selwood until he returns,” Konrad looked thoughtful. “Why does the boss want Selwood so badly, do you know?”

  She shook her head. “He doesn’t confide in me, any more than he does in you. I daresay Saito might know, which is why I need to talk to him.”

  “What did you want to check in Selwood Corp?” Rishabh asked, raising his head and putting aside the game. His inscrutable black eyes were on her face.

  “I want personnel files for Selwood’s Assistant, Nolan Patrick.” She said.

  She didn’t want to voice her suspicion, not to these two. The Elite were a close knit unit, but they had been betrayed enough times that they’d stopped trusting one another blindly. Besides, these two were not made part of the Elite until later, and as such were still outsiders as far as she was concerned.

  “Good looking boy,” Rishabh remarked as he pulled up an image on the monitor. “Looks familiar, somehow. Details on your desk for when you return?”

  She hesitated. “Send them in,” she said. “Saito will want to se
e them,”

  “Are we recruiting?” Konrad asked, his eyes shrewd. “Is that it? Is that why you’re so cagey about this whole thing?”

  “Just get me the details,” she said as she walked through a door to the right.

  Toshi Saito looked up from his desk as she entered, and he waved his hand to make the screen on his desk go blank as she sat down. Saito always made her nervous, perhaps because he was so much older than her. He always sat straight, so that his short stature was never apparent. Even while standing, he stood straight and radiated so much confidence, no one ever thought of him as short.

  “You got my report?” She asked.

  “So I did,” Toshi Saito had an impassive face which had always bothered her, for some reason. “I don’t think it is sufficient to move against Alexander Selwood at the moment.”

  She made no comment, crossing her legs, and placing her hands on the table, waiting for him to elaborate.

  “This—what happened—is hardly an infraction. He was duped into hiring an enemy of the State 20 years ago. So? At the least we can fine him a few thousand Divits, which would make no difference to him. At the most, we can try and put him in a Stasis cell for a few years, which would serve no useful purpose but alert him that we have him in our sights which will displease the Ruler. Besides, the Ruler has asked us to watch the man, not to arrest him.”

  “So we do nothing.”

  “We levy the fine, keep our eyes open, and wait. Until the Ruler advises us to take action.”

  “Action that might cause him to disappear,” Valeria said.

  One thing she knew from their surveillance was that Selwood was extremely adept at avoiding it with no apparent effort. That showed experience.

  “We need something that will give us—what is the term—leverage. Yes, leverage is what we need. Leverage to make him stay when we go for him.” Saito said thoughtfully.

  “Do you know why the boss wants him so badly?” She knew she was pushing, but she had to ask.

  Saito’s face remained as expressionless as ever, which was quite annoying. His slanted eyes were fixed on hers until she started feeling uncomfortable.

  “He hasn’t confided in me, and I haven’t asked. He’s our Ruler,”

  She lowered her eyes. “Of course,” she murmured.

  It was possible Saito was lying, but beneath the impassive mask and the inflectionless voice, she had caught an undertone of chagrin. Saito truly didn’t know, and that only piqued her curiosity more. Why was Cesar Thaxter so interested in a businessman from Prith? Saito talked about leverage, but why? Even if Alexander Selwood disappeared, even if he went into hiding, what did it matter? He was only a man, with limited time while they had all eternity. So why keep watching him when they could simply move against him? Perhaps the Ruler didn’t want him as badly as he implied.

  A beeping sound was heard from Saito’s desk, and she raised her head, to see Konrad’s impudent smile. “The file you asked for, darling,” he said.

  The image of his face was replaced by one of Nolan Patrick and she heard Saito suck in his breath. For the first time in centuries, she could see the shock on the face of their leader.

  “Impossible!” He breathed. He studied the face. “It’s not him, though.”

  “No,” she agreed, trying to keep her voice steady and not sound too triumphant. “But the resemblance is too remarkable to be a coincidence. It’s his son. I’m certain of it.”

  Saito studied the file. “Son of John and Aria Patrick, twin brother Dylan Patrick and younger sister Ashley Patrick.” He paused and frowned. “Their DNA is not a match though.”

  “How difficult do you think it is to falsify a DNA test result? Especially if you have enough money and connections, and I’m sure he has both.”

  “John Patrick,” Saito mused.

  “I’m certain that John Patrick is an alias,” she said, not bothering to hide her excitement. “We’ve found Mason Davis!”

  If they played their cards right, they might be able to use this to gain leverage over Selwood as well, though she didn’t say it out loud. After all, it wasn’t likely Selwood would have known about Mason.

  “We can’t act until we’ve informed the ruler,” Saito said. “And he is out of reach, right now. Keep an eye on the boy in the meantime.”

  “Why is he in Amroe, Saito?” She asked, certain that Saito would know the answer to that.

  Saito grimaced. “Trying to get the Coalition to accept us,” he said.

  Valeria wanted to ask for details, but Saito’s eyes were riveted on the image of Nolan Patrick, and there was a small smile on his lips.

  “His son,” he spoke almost to himself, and Valeria shivered.

  She’d forgotten Saito’s history with Mason, and for the first time since joining the Elite, Valeria hoped that she wouldn't be a part of a mission.

  Twenty Three

  The restaurant was busy, and there weren’t any empty tables. Dylan could see the people waiting in the lounge while the server bots moved between tables, taking orders.

  “I’m waiting for someone,” he told the server bot, for the third time that afternoon.

  It wasn’t like Nolan to be late and already, worry was creeping up his gut. Nolan had sounded tense when he’d called and asked him to meet him for lunch, and now he was late. Dylan could have sworn that the server bots were giving him dark looks, not to speak of the people waiting in the lounge. He contemplated calling Nolan despite the sign that flashed over every table requesting patrons not to make calls during meals.

  Dylan tried to distract himself by focussing on something else, but there was nothing else. He’d already gone through the menu four times, and the muted media wall did not have anything distracting enough. The lighting in the restaurant was muted as well, so he couldn’t see any of the other patrons clearly, despite it being only one in the afternoon. His eyes zeroed in on a girl waiting outside, hanging on the arms of a young man. She was tall, lissome and attractive. Dylan found his eyes lingering on the cleavage revealed by the plunging neckline of her short dress. Her legs were long and shapely, and even from this distance he could see the light dusting of freckles on her skin.

  His eyes were moving up to her face when his view was blocked by a large pair of shoulders.

  “Sorry I’m late,” Nolan slid into the seat opposite him, an unrepentant grin on his face.

  The grin should have alleviated Dylan’s worry, but he could see the tightness behind it, the rigidity with which his twin held himself. There was something going on with Nolan, and it troubled Dylan.

  Before he could ask Nolan what was wrong, a server bot was at his elbow,

  “Are you ready to order, sir?”

  “Yes,” Nolan said, glancing at the menu. “I’m famished.”

  Dylan rolled his eyes as he ordered two lunch specials without alcohol. Nolan’s low tolerance to the stuff was a family joke, and mom and dad had decided to abstain during family dinners.

  “So, what’s wrong?” He asked once the bot was away.

  “Must there be something wrong for me to see you?” Nolan asked, appearing offended.

  “No, but I know something’s wrong this time. If you want to tell me, I’m here. If you just want a distraction while you deal with it, I’m still here.”

  Nolan ran a hand through his hair in a gesture that was so familiar to Dylan from their childhood. It was a sure sign of nervousness.

  “Let’s finish lunch first.”

  Dylan nodded. If his brother wanted to tell him, he would. If not, he could help keep his mind off whatever was bothering him. Dylan found himself studying Nolan as they waited. Though they were twins, they looked nothing like each other. Nolan took after their father, with black hair, eyes, and straight nose. Dylan on the other hand, looked like their mother with golden hair, violet eyes and an upturned nose. Fortunately, he had his father’s physique, and was just as tall and broad-shouldered as Nolan.

  They made idle chit chat over lunch, ta
lking about their jobs, Ashley, their parents. Nolan teased Dylan about the smudge of paint on his wrist, and Dylan teased him about his crush on his employer.

  “It’s not a crush,” Nolan protested. “You’re making me sound like a teenage girl!”

  “Only teenage girls have crushes?” Dylan grinned.

  “Shut up,” Nolan said, but he was smiling.

  “I don’t know what you see in him,” Dylan said, bringing up a mental image of Alexander Selwood whom he’d met only once. “I mean he’s tall, but looks like a stiff wind could blow him over.”

  “He’s a brilliant man,” Nolan said. “I don’t expect you to understand intelligence, though.”

  “Didn’t know he kept his intelligence that low on his backside,” Dylan said, earning a smack on his hand from Nolan who was as red as a tomato.

  “I don’t look at his ass,” he said, pouting. “He’s my boss. It wouldn’t be professional.”

  “Sure, you only ogle his brains,” Dylan teased.

  “Shut up,” Nolan said again, but sounding more subdued than angry this time.

  “That bad?” Dylan asked, and Nolan gave him a resigned look.

  Dylan made a face. He hadn’t meant to say that.

  “I’ll survive,” Nolan said, his voice quiet. “Something weird happened today,”

  The cleaning bot came to clear their table and the server bot came to ask if they needed anything else.

  “I’ll have a coffee,” Nolan said, and Dylan nearly frowned. Coffee was Nolan’s comfort food; had been since childhood. He used to say even the aroma was soothing.

  Dylan asked for a glass of water.

  “Our head of the farming division, Mr. Martinez, was found dead in his home this morning,” Nolan said while stirring his coffee. “Very early in the morning, and I was woken by Defenders banging on the door of my bedroom.”

  “Good thing, they didn’t come into the bedroom directly,” Dylan said lightly as he twirled his water glass in his hands.

  “Anyway, the Head of Defenders was there, Valeria Chernova.”

  “She’s part of the Elite,” Dylan said. “What was she doing in a routine investigation?”