The Constable: An intergalactic Space Opera Thriller

by J. N. Chaney

  Now for the hard part. I looked her in the eye. “Give me a minute to get dressed, then I need you to escort me to Headmaster Whiles. I’ll tell him everything.”

  She nodded and took a step back, realizing for the first time that I was barely dressed. “Alright. I’ll be outside. You have a minute, then I’m right back in here. One minute.”

  The door closed and I got dressed in a hurry. There was no pushing the matter further now. I opened the door and Maevik walked me to the headmaster’s office. Classes were in session, so nobody saw me enter. Maevik sat me down and talked to the assistant and then ushered me into the headmaster’s office. I didn’t say a word the whole time.

  Headmaster Whiles gasped in shock when he saw me. “Oh my. This is worse than I thought. You said injury. I didn’t expect this level of assault. Alphonse, who did this to you?”

  I looked at the clock. The bio final was just starting. I suppressed a smirk and looked at the headmaster with my best approximation of fear and worry. “It’s about this.” I turned on my data pad and transferred the fake test answers to him. “The student—and I’m not naming anyone—that answers the bio final with these answers threatened me. He’d hurt me if I didn’t give him the answers.” I summoned a few tears and a choked a little. “I gave him fake answers and he’s going to be so mad when he finds out. Check the tests and do something. Don’t let him hurt me. I said nothing.”

  I hid my face in my hands and sobbed the best I could. The headmaster stepped out with Maevik. I could hear them talking about solutions and evidence and so on. I overheard them mention Manson and Gil. Everything was ready now.

  Manson and Gil were brought into the office. They took a look at me and the moment they saw my face they both started yelling.

  “Canton did it!” said Manson, jamming an oversized pudgy finger at me. “I saw him.”

  Gil chimed in. “It was out back of the dorms. Canton did it.”

  I used my frustration with their adlibs to get in an extra painful sob.

  Headmaster Whiles sent for Mr. Aldwell, the bio teacher, and Canton. Gil and Manson sat next to me and I whispered to them, “Just stay quiet and let it happen from here.”

  They nodded, forgetting that they were supposed to be subtle.

  Mr. Aldwell came in next.

  “Do you have the record of the test answers for today’s final?” Whiles asked.

  Aldwell admitted he did. “I’ve just sent them to your pad. I didn’t see anyone doing anything in the test. The only abnormal thing was the absence of Alphonse for the second day in a row.” He saw me then and also gasped. “I see. Well. Nothing unusual, then.”

  Canton came in next. He gave me a look and then moved on to Manson and Gil. He reacted immediately. “They’re lying. Whatever they say, they got no proof. No way I did any of it.”

  Headmaster Whiles projected the comparison between the fake answers I gave and Canton’s test results. “Why are you the only student who answered every question wrong and also answered every question identically to this forged answer sheet?”

  Canton glared at the headmaster then at me. “You? You’ll pay for this. My father is a powerful man. You won’t get away with any of it.”

  Maevik grabbed Canton and kept him from lunging at me.

  Manson and Gil started shouting. “We all know it was you. You’re out of excuses.”

  Maevik dragged him out of the office and restrained him.

  Headmaster Whiles shook his head. “I’m sorry, Canton. With evidence like this, I have no choice but to immediately remove you from Quintell Academy. You will be put on a transport and your parents contacted. As this is the end of the term, it is unlikely you will be allowed to finish. That will be dealt with by your new school.”

  Canton fought through a few different emotions. He was angry and confused and scared. The bottom had just dropped out of his whole world. Everything he thought about himself was slipping away.

  Standing where he could see me, I slouched against the wall and gave him my best Vance impression, then I winked.

  I spent the rest of that day at the clinic getting cleaned up. They confirmed it was just a bruise and no hairline fracture or concussion, then they gave me some anti-inflammatory meds for the swelling. I returned to my room, and the following day I was excused from classes to avoid any revenge plots from Canton’s friends and associates. They probably also wanted to hide my face from the rest of the students. I used the time to catch up on the work of the last few days.

  I had time to rest before the meet later in the day. All in all, I felt great. We had pulled off a lucrative heist without getting caught, hurting anyone, or losing anyone. I had sealed Canton’s fate and gotten revenge for Vance.

  I thought about what that meant now, in the aftermath. What did I do now that I had succeeded at everything I had set out to do? These thoughts kept me occupied until I snuck out of campus and headed to the meet.

  I took a transport to a restaurant a few blocks from the meet and then walked over. Traveling inconspicuously was difficult when you couldn’t drive. If I was going to keep up this business, I would need to solve the question of transportation.

  I walked into the abandoned warehouse and made my way to the meeting room. I entered to see Remi already inside, posted up against a wall and eyeing me, as always. Winston was sitting on a box next to what I assumed was the containment unit covered in tarps and sheets.

  I didn’t see Evelyn.

  Remi gave me a nod. “Any word?”

  “Just me. I didn’t see any transports outside. Winston, did you come with Evelyn?”

  Winston stared at his hands and seemed disconnected from the room. He looked up. “She said she’d be late. She was having a drink with someone important. She likes to have drinks with important people.”

  I nodded. That sounded typical except that she was always on time to meetings that she set.

  Remi popped off the wall, gun in hand. I saw the movement and then heard a trio of boots pounding their way through the warehouse.

  Three Union officers came in behind me, guns drawn. I stumbled backward and landed near Remi’s feet. “You’re under arrest for crimes against the Union and its citizens. Get down now!”

  “Like hell!” Remi opened fire. The two on the right and center dropped as his shots cut straight through their armor. The one on the left managed to dodge to the side and get behind a pillar. I was scrambling to figure out what had just happened, while Winston held his hands over his ears and ducked down.

  Remi scanned for the third officer.

  Another set of shots rang out and I felt Remi go down almost on top of me. The officer came out from behind the pillar and leveled the gun. “Don’t move!”

  I froze. Remi’s gun was straight ahead and still smoking from the discharged rounds.

  Winston stood up and screamed. The officer pivoted toward him and I took the opportunity.

  I scooped up the weapon and fired three times. The first missed, far to the right. The second landed in the center of the officer’s chest. The third clipped through the top of his shoulder.

  He dropped, a hard smack as his helmet hit the floor.

  I stared at him for longer than I knew before finally swallowing. I tightened my shaking hands, clenching my fingers as I tried to steady myself. “Are you alright, Winston?”

  I turned to him, only to find him running toward me. Winston wrapped his arms around me and began carrying me away from the warzone.

  “E says I should leave now,” he told me as he held onto me. “I have to leave, Alphonse. Have to kill you quick.”

  It only took me a moment to see the earpiece. He must have been in communication with his sister the entire time. “W-Wait, Winston—” I tried to angle my mouth away from his chest. “What are you doing?”

  He wrapped his hands around my neck and squeezed. “E says I have to, Alphonse. I don’t want to, but she says you can’t come. Sorry.”

  “W-What?” I asked.

>   His arms tightened around me and I struggled to breathe, virtually powerless against the large simpleton. My head whirled and I could barely see past the red splotches in my vision. As I lost the sensation in my cheeks, my neck, and my shoulders, something in me flared—a deep fear that I could not resist, and I fired another set of shots, no thought to it at all.

  The gun clicked on the third round.

  The pressure on my throat eased up and I took a few haggard breaths before managing to wiggle my way free.

  Winston’s hands went to his shoulder. There was blood from where I’d shot him.

  The giant groaned, all his attention diverted to his wound. I regained myself and, wavering on my feet, managed to pull out his earpiece.

  I shuffled away from him and put the comm in my ear, working my jaw for a moment, trying to get it to engage. “Evelyn?”

  “Oh, Alphonse. Did you survive?” she asked. “Where’s my brother?”

  I ignored the question, quickly turning over the situation in my head and readjusting myself. A few seconds later, I cleared my throat. “So, you’re taking the prize for yourself.”

  “Of course, I am. Did you think I would really split this fortune with a Renegade and a student? Please. My plans are too grand for that.”

  The world was spinning in more ways than one. “I’ll find you.”

  “Alphonse, I’m already off-planet with my prize. You, on the other hand, will either be in a cell or dead by the end of the night. You might want to start running.”

  “Evelyn, you don’t get to just walk away from this. I won’t allow—”

  She laughed. “Go away now, boy.”

  The line went dead.

  “Evelyn? Evelyn!” I barked.

  I could hear sirens nearby. Even if I wanted to run, there was nowhere to go.

  A grunt came from nearby. It was Remi, blinking on the ground. I ran to him, quickly ripping a piece of cloth from his shirt and pressing it into the open gunshot wound to apply pressure. “How many fingers am I holding up?” I asked. “Can you hear my voice?”

  He reached a hand into the air and I grabbed it. “Did the bitch fuck us?” he asked, a garble in his throat. “I should’ve known better than to trust her. The cute ones always—”

  “Hold on, Remi. They’ll be here to arrest us, but they’ll give you medical attention. Just be still,” I told him, the words falling out of me.

  “Hey, kid,” he said, reaching for my hand. “Give me my gun.”

  “What?” I asked, looking down at the weapon.

  “It’s proper to die with your gun,” he muttered, then gave me a knowing look. “And you can’t be holding it when they get here.”

  “But, you—”

  “I’m tired,” he said, his eyes dropping a little. “Wish I had a pillow.”

  I shoved the gun into his hand. “Just hold on.”

  “Be good, Alphonse,” he said, his tired eyes drifting as he lost sight of me. “Be better than me.”

  Epilogue

  I sat in a dark room with a single overhead light.

  I should have seen this coming.

  All that time spent thinking about how to present myself, what other people did or thought, and how I ought to be. I was attentive, saw all the things that no one else could see.

  But I didn’t see this.

  I thought about every interaction I’d had with Evelyn and how she had manipulated me.

  A voice came through a speaker somewhere at the periphery of the darkness. “Prisoner, you will be moved shortly. Remain where you are.”

  I sat in the dark for a long time.

  Four days later, guards came to my cell. It was, as I’d imagined, bigger than the space that Winston lived in for a month digging that tunnel. It was about the same size as my dorm room with many of the same amenities. Prison and school were only different in what produced the stretches of boredom.

  The guard banged on my door. “Prisoner! Hands!”

  I put my hands through the slat in the middle of the door and felt shackles snapping into place. The door opened and I was escorted through the hallways and into a small white room. It was neutrally lit and almost pleasant in comparison to the gray industrial décor of the rest of the prison. A man I recognized was already seated inside.

  The guard opened the door and sat me down. He shackled my hands to the table and turned to the man. “I’ll be right outside.” Then he left and we were alone.

  The man was old, whip thin, and dressed in an immaculate suit. I had met him once as Mr. Black the day before my transfer to Quintell.

  He smiled at me. “Hello again, Mr. Malloy. Nice to see you. I’m Malcolm Shaw.”

  I shrugged. The action sent ripples of pain through my fractured eye socket and bruised face. Winston might have been impressed to know that the injury he’d given me still ached. I wondered where he was right now.

  “That’s one lie you’ve admitted to,” I said. “So much for Mr. Black.”

  Shaw smiled. “Yes, well, that was part of the job. I’m sure you understand.”

  “What brings you here today?” I asked, getting straight to the point. “Sending me to another school?”

  The old man laughed. “We’ll see about that,” he said. “I heard reports about the activities you and your cohorts have been up to. I was rather surprised when I heard one of Evelyn’s accomplices was still alive. Actually, two. We picked up the brother. He corroborated much of your story. Of course, he begged for a deal. For an idiot, he certainly knew his rights.”

  I watched the man carefully, as I had in the headmaster’s office months ago.

  “We know you came up with the plan that successfully thwarted our security and led to the theft of the neutronium,” he said. “Some people used the word mastermind when describing that type of position. What nobody can seem to figure out is why you did it. A well-mannered student with exceptional grades and a bright future, plenty of money in their personal account. Care to explain?”

  I remained silent.

  “You didn’t need the money,” he went on. “You had nobody to benefit with your actions. You, as far as we know, don’t have a cause to fight for. Why did you do it? What did you hope to gain?”

  I considered the answers I had been preparing to his original question about the future. The way that Vance and Remi talked about shaping a world through action. Making choices. I had never longed for any of those things. Not when it all came down to it. Not when I reflected on my choices. I’d spent the last few days in a cell with nothing but my thoughts to keep me company, and in that time, I had found solitude to be a powerful incentive for reflection.

  “I did it for the puzzles,” I answered, knowing as I said the words that it was the truth. “I wanted to beat the challenges Evelyn presented. I wanted to let Canton know that he couldn’t get away with something because he had power or influence. I wanted to show everyone that I saw through them. That I knew things about them. That the truth was there, I only had to look. I wanted to prove that I shaped the world around me with that truth.”

  Shaw leaned forward in his chair. “I saw something in you back at the school. It was the second time your name had come across my desk. You have an intuitive nature for figuring people out but no discipline. I sent you to Quintell to keep an eye on you. And in three months, you both thwarted and exceeded my expectations. I had hoped to use you to expose Evelyn’s scheme, but you ended up instrumental in its execution.”

  I said nothing.

  His eyes lingered on me for a long moment, and like Evelyn before him, I could not tell what this man was thinking. He pulled out a card and slid it across the table to me, then flipped it over. The card had a strange symbol on it—an upside-down triangle with a circle inside and a line running through it. “Have you heard of the Constable Program, Alphonse?” the old man finally asked.

  The question caught me by surprise, and I stared at the card, searching my memory for it. I had seen it in places, including news reports and d
ifferent books regarding the Union and certain military exploits across the galaxy, but never had I made the connection. Never had I found the word Constable anywhere near it. “I know it exists,” I said, recalling an article I had come across, perhaps six months back, and a few vague references to the program itself. “I understand that the Constables are a powerful arm of the Union’s military, though their exploits are high classified. Nobody can say for certain who they are or specifically what they do.”

  Shaw smiled again. “Astute and spoken with the same blunt charm as everything you say. I know you can deceive and conceal that charm when you want. I saw you do so with Canton.”

  “It was for the truth.”

  Shaw chuckled. “Indeed. The Constables are intelligence officers of the Union. They have access to information and resources beyond what you may imagine. They work to unravel mysteries and plots with staggering consequences and unparalleled difficulty. They solve puzzles, in short.”

  I leaned forward. “I knew you weren’t a school administrator.”

  “Did you, now?” he asked with a half-smile.

  “I suspected there was a lie in play but couldn’t see how to get to the truth. I just didn’t know how I knew it.” I paused. “It’s always been that way.”

  Shaw was quiet for a moment, eyeing me with a look of cold examination. “You have talent, Alphonse. A natural ability that goes beyond that of most others.” He paused again. “But you lack the training to understand it.”

  I considered the point. “How do I know any of it?”

  “You see things you aren’t fully cognizant of. People behave in many ways, from the acute to the obtuse. You read into their layers and come up with precise conclusions. Micro-expressions, behaviors, word choice—tiny pieces added up to form a person. Through this, you can see their true selves, their lies, their falsehoods. It is a rare gift, and it is something that the Constables know all too well.”

  I said nothing, not certain of how to even react. Here was a man like me, I realized, and he had been since the start.