by Drew Avera
I scratched my chin, feeling the new day's growth of facial hair coming through. "Let them talk. Short of swaying a few votes, I'll take talk over inaction. Meanwhile, we will move forward with our plans."
"Do you think that's a good idea right now? Won't people think you're being opportunistic?" Cherum asked, the stiffness in his voice gone.
"I honestly don't care. Whatever is found about her death won't come back on me, or you." I replied, grabbing my cup of coffee that I let sit too long. The coolness of it distracting me as I took a sip.
"I certainly hope it wouldn't come back on me," Cherum said. "I had nothing to do with it."
"Of course, you didn't," I said, not fighting the grin as it spread across my face. "Keep me informed on the memorial service. I'll do what I can to get the funding for it, but as our leader, you're expected to deliver the speech."
"Yeah, thanks for that," Cherum said, closing the call before I had a chance to respond.
I dropped the receiver onto my desk and rose from my seat. Outside, as the sun rose over the horizon, light flittered across the dome creating bright spots glaring immensely against the acrylic surface. "One day you'll be obsolete, and we will scale this planet the way my family intended," I said, trying to vocalize the future into existence.
I had a legacy to maintain and I finally had the means to make it happen. I may have had to say goodbye to my past to serve on the Council, but people would say my name for centuries once my plans were put into action. I would be the forefather of a greater Martian colonization and I didn't care what it cost.
11
Castor
The sound of static lulled me from sleep as I groggily sat up in bed. I hardly remembered returning home the night before. But I felt the effects with the echoes of the sirens still ringing in my ears. I felt weak, famished, and my mouth was dry. It was a common occurrence ever since "they" changed me into what I had become. My body wore a foreign skin now. I couldn't help but feel trapped by fading memories of my past and my new, stilted reality.
I imagined this was how Frankenstein's monster must have felt.
I rose from the bed and turned on the television, hoping the sound would dull the static-filled ringing in my ears. Anything to retard the noise from which I could not escape. I stood in the center of the room, eyes closed, and holding my breath. I didn't want to be awake. I didn't want to relive last night. But the first words I heard were the reports of last night's misadventure.
"The suspected killer of Marada Scrimpshire is presumed to be her husband, Officer Halem Scrimpshire. He is being held by the Guard, though charges have yet to be filed. Our sources state that the Guard has up to seventy-two-hours to file murder charges before necessitating the release of Scrimpshire. We will keep you updated as the story unfolds."
I fell back onto the bed and looked at the television. Images of Halem being led from the gala in cuffs filled the screen, and it jarred my memory of last night. He looked into my eyes and I wondered if a part of him noticed me. I hardly recognized myself, but I wanted him to know who I was, to know I was still alive somewhere beneath this dead, skin mask. I gawked at the report, my eyes zooming in on Halem's devastating ordeal, and once again I felt the pain like an icepick behind my right eye.
It demanded my service, my loyalty.
My head fell forward into my hands as I tried to muffle the scream threatening to escape my lips. I retreated behind clamped closed eyelids in my attempt to black out the light in the room which elevated the aggressive assault in my head. The pain returned with such regularity that I could have sworn I was having a constant bombardment of strokes; each one closer to taking my miserable life.
I welcomed it, a sweet end to the nightmare.
But I knew the truth. They were watching, listening, somewhere inside my brain. Each synapse triggered a response. Each response graded by my handler. The ones in opposition to their cause resulted in the searing, stabbing, and relentless torture they inflicted on me.
I could numb myself to it over time. All I needed was a distraction. I needed to focus around the pain, to bend it like refracting light through a prism. I focused on the television, first with my ears before daring to open my eyes.
"This just in. Guard officials have released Officer Halem Scrimpshire based on the retrieval of new evidence which points to a more likely suspect—"
The words attracted my full attention to the screen. I sat unmoving as I watched the female reporter's lips move in slow motion waiting for the revelation with bated breath.
What evidence could they have? I covered my tracks. I ensured there were no witnesses. That left two options: either I was betrayed by my employer, or Halem did recognize me. Either way, my time was running out.
Without thinking, I grabbed a glass from the end table and slung it towards the television, both the glass and screen splintered into shards from the impact while the audio continued in the background.
"Guardsmen are currently on the search for this man as a suspect for the murder of Marada Scrimpshire. If you know, or see, anyone matching the description. Please report it to the Guard immediately."
Without seeing the image, I knew it was a picture of me. It was as if my life could not have gotten worse, but still, fate found a way.
I had little choice but to escape Archea immediately and to never look back. I knew that was the expectation from my employer, to run to Clenist and disappear, but I was kidding myself to think he would let me get away with the murder so easily. The flaws in the plan appeared painfully obvious now. Once I left Archea, I would be alone and defenseless. They would come for me.
Their betrayal would be bitter and swift. I did as I was directed. But if the Agency would turn on me, then why should I maintain my loyalty? Better to die delivering the truth to Halem, setting him free, than to find my end in the darkness alone.
As I pulled myself out of bed to get dressed, the pain dulled enough for me not to lose consciousness as I stood. I contemplated my future on the run. My resources were plentiful, that was if they were not already seized, but what kind of life would I have alone? Archea was my city.
At least it used to be.
Resentment for what had been forced upon me crashed like a wave on my heart.
I knew I shouldn't have done this. I should have taken the alternative, my own life.
Somewhere, deep inside of me, a voice shouted for me to come to reason and do the right thing. The Agency was my home now. It told me to repent and ask forgiveness for being discovered, for having second thoughts.
I wanted to shut the voice up, to cut it out of my mind and kill it the same as I did to Marada. But I knew the voice was a part of me. It was the voice of who I once was conflicting with who they wanted me to be. With dread and anticipation, I wanted my past life back.
To hell with the Agency.
On cue, the pain returned like a lightning bolt. I stumbled forward, whimpering like a child, as I collapsed to the hard floor of my dank apartment. I writhed for several moments, expecting my head to explode at any moment until the world went dark.
12
Halem
Heat radiated around me as I stood outside Tetrim Rine's office. There was a constant, dull throb in my ears as my heavy breathing and shaking hands drew attention from others in the hallway. I suspected I looked like a madman.
I probably was for coming here in the first place.
"Sir, I told you that he is not taking visitors at this time," the secretary said for the tenth time in as many minutes. She was just doing her job, but she was also getting in the way of justice being served for the murder of my wife. I knew Tetrim was involved. I had zero evidence, but I knew better than to ignore my gut feeling. Intuition solved many cases. I just needed to find the connection.
"I told you this is a matter in regard to last night's murder. I don't care if he is refusing visitors, you will step aside and let me see him. Now." My voice felt thin and shrill coming from my lips; almost like it was so
meone else speaking. The lack of sleep left me disoriented, but how could I sleep with the pain coursing through my heart? The scene kept replaying in my head.
"I'm under direct orders to do no such thing, sir. You have been placed on a threat list due to your possible complicities in Marada's death. I don't think anyone on the Council will see you. I'm sorry." Her tone shifted, and my eyes darted at her as she took a step back. She and everyone else in the office knew damned well I had nothing to do with my wife's murder. Yet the Council played it up as if I was the threat?
"I was released because there is no evidence to that," I seethed.
"Halem," she said, stepping closer and placing a hand on my shoulder. "I knew Marada and I know what you say is true, but I can't let you pass. My job is at stake if I let you near him." Her apologetic gaze breached my rage long enough for me to recognize I was terrorizing the same people I had sworn to protect. Guilt washed over me as I looked out at the gathered crowd watching me, their devices pointed like weapons in my direction. They were moments away from uploading evidence of an unhinged officer of the law coming unglued.
Grief or not, the evidence would not look good against me.
"I…I know. I just need to speak with him. I need to sort this out and help track down the person responsible for Marada's death," I said, stuttering to get the words out. I looked at the secretary, my shoulders drooping as I felt defeated, drained. Her eyes were full of compassion and fear. I could see she felt bad about Marada, but my irate behavior put her on edge. What would Marada say to my treatment of these people?
The door opened behind her and I watched Tetrim step forward, one foot still inside his office as his hands held onto the doorframe. "Meldona, it's all right. You can let Officer Scrimpshire in," he said, his tone low and nervous. I saw the worry on his face when he glanced up at me. Maybe it is guilt, I thought.
She turned and nodded. "Yes, sir, Mr. Rine," she whispered before darting around me nervously. I felt bad about the way I acted, but it was hard to let the guilt weigh me down when it resulted in what I wanted. We stood and stared at each other for an awkward moment as murmurings from the others filled the quiet room. I looked into Tetrim's eyes; reading him, or at least trying to. All I sensed was a coldness to him and it made me feel hollow and hopeless.
"Come in," he said curtly, moving away from the half-opened door enough for me to enter. "I have to say, I find this disturbing to discover you in the hallway harassing my secretary. I would have thought you'd be too distracted to further torment my offices." He scurried across the room and moved behind his desk as if to create a psychological barrier between us. Nothing was further from the truth. There was nothing to prevent me from hopping over it and snapping his neck if I had proof he was behind Marada's death.
"I unexpectedly have more free time now that my wife is dead, and I'm suspended from work pending an investigation. Something tells me I have you to thank for that," I retorted. Each word more biting than the previous. Even with no evidence against me, the precinct took precautions and seized my badge. My service weapon was already held by the Guard, who thankfully did not press charges for carrying. At least not yet.
Tetrim's jaw drew slack as he looked at me, a mix of pity and self-defense spread across his smug face. "Halem, I'm sorry for what you're going through, but I had nothing to do with Marada's death. She may have been a political rival, but I respected her. She is the kind of rival that pushes for an opponent to be better at communicating their position. As far as your suspension is concerned, I could make a few calls to have it revoked and you could return to work when you felt it was the right time."
The slight smirk on his face taunted me. I clenched my fists tighter, my fingernails nearly drawing blood as they dug into my palms. "I'm sure you could make that call, but I'm not here for that. I want to know who did this to my wife."
Tetrim sighed, placing his hands on the back of his chair as he looked down his nose at me. "I see. You're convinced I was behind it, regardless of what I say? Halem, you're looking for monsters in empty closets. My hands are clean."
"I don't doubt the cleanliness of your hands, Tetrim. But this is a matter of looking at who had something to gain by her death. She opposed your proposal of expanding beyond the domes and building the artificial atmosphere technology. Every day we stay under the domes, it costs you money. Remove the opponent and you can take whatever route is most profitable."
Tetrim's face grew grim, his face restraining whatever emotion was just below the surface and trying to break through. "You're a conspiracy theorist, Halem. No one on the Council would believe a word of what you just said. If anyone had something to gain from moving away from the domes, it would have been your wife. Her own family owned tech corporations which would have profited greatly in artificial atmosphere development. Do you have any idea what kind of bids would be in play for a global program like this? We are talking billions of dollars over the course of decades."
"Perhaps, but she cut ties with her family when she was recruited onto the Council," I spat.
Tetrim moved away from the chair and approached. "Indeed. All I'm saying is that if I had something to gain, it would have been from her being alive and using her connections to drive down the price of this proposal. Besides, if I was behind her death, then why would I lead a task force investigating her murder?"
It was my turn to step forward and I watched his eyes follow me with concern creasing his brow. "If you're leading the task force, then you're the first to review the evidence. It gives you an out."
"Don't be ridiculous," he scoffed.
"Fine," I said. "Then put me on your task force and let me investigate her murder. I have a lead which needs to be tracked anyway. Who better to assist than someone with investigative experience and is a potential witness?"
A smirk broke through on his face as he nodded. "Well played, Halem. But you won't manipulate your way onto this task force so easily. If you have a lead, then I suggest you give it to the Guard to investigate. Your involvement would be a conflict of interest."
"Bullshit," I said, charging towards him and stopping within inches. He shrank back in fear, lifting his hands to protect himself before realizing I had stopped. It was pathetic, yet at the same time, made me feel like I hadn't lost all my power in this situation. "I'm sorry," I lied. "I'm not sure what came over me." I stepped back to give him space. "I just need to find this killer, so I can ensure justice is served. Surely you can respect that." I turned toward the door where I heard movement outside. Based on the shadow pattern, it looked like two or three men were on the other side. I stopped and waited for what I knew was coming.
I heard Tetrim take a few quiet steps back behind his desk before his intercom came to life.
"Yes, sir?"
"Please escort Officer Scrimpshire off the premises. Be sure to give him the contact information for the lead investigator of his wife's murder. He has a statement to file," Tetrim said before clicking off the comm.
"I already gave my statement, Tetrim." I turned to face him. "And when I find the murderous sack of shit and discover he is tied to you in some way. I'm going to bury you."
The door opened behind me as two Guardsmen stepped in.
"Doubtful," Tetrim replied, his confidence back now that he was no longer alone in the same room with me. It was just another indication of his cowardice in my book.
"We'll see," I replied as the Guardsmen took hold of my arms.
"It's time to go, sir," one of them said, gently tugging me to the side to follow him.
"It's fine, boys. I was just leaving anyway." I glared at Tetrim and forced my arms free from his security detail. "I can see myself out."
Tetrim stepped forward, ushering us towards the door with an authoritative finger pointing towards the exit. "Do not come back here, Officer Scrimpshire. You won't like my response."
"Are you threatening me?" I asked, fighting the urge to punch him in his long nose to see if I could flatten it out for him
.
"Not at all," Tetrim said. "But I have excellent security and you will be on video in violation of the restraining order I will issue as soon as you are off the premises. Despite my condolences for your loss, I will report you for harassment of me and my staff."
My jaw clenched enough to hurt as I bit back a retort. "Thanks for the warning." I spun on my heels and shoulder-checked one of the Guardsmen on my way out of the office. In the hallway, I watched several staff personnel scurry about, trying to act as if they weren't onlookers at what had just gone down in their boss's offices. I almost hated to disappoint them, but as my footsteps clapped against the tiles leading towards the elevator, I looked up and saw one of the security cameras pointed right at me.
I did the only thing I could think of as my anger boiled. I lifted a single finger and gestured my opinion of Tetrim Rine's service to Archea as I passed by. It was juvenile but oddly satisfying. With the way my life was falling apart, I would take every ounce of satisfaction I could get.
13
Tetrim
Falling back into my chair with an exasperated sigh, I watched the screen as the biggest threat to my power and control over Archean politics flipped me the bird on his trek towards the elevator. If not for the fact he was supposed to still be in jail, and taking the fall for his wife's murder, I might have laughed. But given how magnificently the plan I thought was in place had fallen apart thus far, I had no reason to smile. Hell, if I was honest, I had the gnawing thought of jumping over the side of the building if it meant avoiding the fallout if this got any messier.
Without looking, I grabbed the receiver of my private comm and dialed the number to the Agency. I had the secured line put in two years ago when I inherited the shadow entity from my predecessor. Once he passed away, I was left picking up the pieces I hadn't known existed. At first, I thought the Agency was a curse, but now I saw it as the only opportunity I had at getting in front of this situation to keep it manageable. I hated relying on last resorts. I fought to keep the thoughts of their intervention being a longshot from flooding into my brain. I had enough to deal with without having that negativity eating me up inside. My fingers tapped against my desk impatiently as I watched Halem disappear into the elevator.