by Shawn Keys
Steve Wallace hmpfed. “We are quite aware of Kyle’s friends. None of them are into that sort of trouble, nor involved in any criminal activity.”
Jill argued back, “We are concerned that Debra Simmons is being influenced. To protect her, Kyle might be forced to do something he might not otherwise do. We have taken similar precautions with a Mr. Erling, a Mr. Marks and their families.”
Amanda looked surprised. “You brought Riley and Nathan to this place already?”
Steve grimaced. “Which means Susan and Chris will be there.” It was clear that the Nathan’s parents were not his favorite people. They had tried to unite with them as friends, giving how close the kids were, but that effort had died quickly.
Jack shook his head. “Not yet. We intend to bring them, but Mrs. Erling is working and Mr. Erling is apparently driving logging trucks in Arizona. However, a Ms. Chloe Erling was at the house and is now in our care.”
Amanda smiled. “Oh, I didn’t know Chloe was back from college. I haven’t seen her in forever.” She shook her head. “What about Riley’s parents?”
“He informed us they were both on assignment elsewhere.”
Amanda sighed as if that was pretty typical. “Lonely kid. I’m glad he found Nathan. Otherwise I think he’d be even more lost.”
Jill kept a stone face as the Hutchings’ woman praised the two for their love. There were few things that were more immediately disqualifying for the baseline than same-sex preferences. The reasons weren’t even religious. If same-sex tendencies were accepted as a genetic trait for a certain percentage of the population, that trait’s very nature limited their ability to reproduce. It ceased to be a morality question and became a practical one for Jill’s superiors. As an FDPC agent, the only thing that should matter was that Nathan and Riley were both Persterim positive, so it really didn’t matter to the agency what lifestyle they embraced. As for her other loyalty… culling undesirables from the population was not yet mandated. She kept a blandly pleasant smile, not caring about any other factors. “Indeed. Well, I am sure they will be a comfort to each other while this situation resolves itself.”
Jack jumped in, “Once we have you together, we’ll be asking you to brain-storm all the places Kyle and Debra might have decided to go. They might not have a choice, but if they had some influence, they might have picked familiar ground in hopes they could summon help.”
Jill’s phone buzzed, and she checked the caller. Claire? Jill could count the number of times the scientist had called her after-hours on one hand. She said to Jack, “Call from the office. Listen on your ear-piece in case there’s something important.”
Jack gave a nod, then helped seal Kyle’s parents inside the doors of their government SUV. The bullet holes from the old one were gone. The new one had been delivered that afternoon.
Taking a few steps away, Jill answered, “Agent Niles.”
“Oh, thank goodness! I was worried you wouldn’t pick up.” The voice was certainly Claire’s, though she sounded keyed up, as if she had just stared death in the face and survived.
“Has something gone wrong… Claire?” Jill disliked the informality, but this seemed like the right moment to play that game.
“Yes! Kyle Hutchings was here.”
“Where?”
“The FDPC office! He came in with… umm, oh, yes, there were three other young women.”
Jill froze. “Hutchings was at the office? I’m glad you are safe, Claire. That must have been frightening, knowing what he is mixed up in. Did he say what he wanted?”
“Yes, though it still doesn’t make any sense. They wanted to get into the computers.”
Very, very carefully, Jill asked, “And?” She was already planning routes in her head to intercept Claire if she was still at the office. I don’t need another loose end right now. We’re already on thin ice as it is!
Claire paused, sounding uncertain.
Jill’s intent was hardening. Jack can get the parents to the safe house. I’ll have to deal with Claire myself…
When suddenly, the answer came, “I told him the same thing I’m telling you. There’s nothing to find. Kyle Hutchings was the last negative I’ve processed. He’s the biggest secret on these systems. Was he trying to find others like him? I have no idea. They poked around, then told me I didn’t understand what was going on, and left.”
Jill exhaled in relief. Her hand had drifted to her pistol’s hilt without even realizing it. Relaxing, she pried her fingers away. “I know you don’t proscribe to strange theories, but I admit recent events are making me wonder if the studies on the mental instability of Persterim negatives should be taken more seriously. There is no accounting for that sort of erratic behavior.” Deciding to push her narrative a little more, Jill asked, “Was Hutchings under pressure from the Debra Simmons woman? I take it she was there? She’s something of a computer savant.”
“Yes. I recognized her from the television. Short girl? Pink and purple hair?”
“That’s her. We had hoped she was merely a victim of this gang activity. But it is possible she is fully involved. Our last hope for her sake is that these criminals are blackmailing her, threatening to betray her after her involvement in the death of her parents.”
“I don’t know anything about all that. But she wasn’t very happy. She seemed the sort to take revenge.” There was a strange warning in her tone, like Claire wanted to say something to Jill but decided not to at the last second.
Jill guessed at what it was. “I know. She’s dangerous. If she’s convinced Kyle to follow her schemes, she might be getting more dangerous by the hour. Thanks, Claire. We’ll be careful. Anything else?”
“No. I’m going home. I need a drink and a bath after that. Should I call the police?”
“Did they steal anything?”
“No. Not even my purse.”
“Alright. Leave it alone, then. No sense confusing jurisdictions any more than necessary. The local police already are already too involved in Hutchings for my taste. We are taking his parents into protective custody at the safe house, along with a couple of his friends. No-one else is going to be dying tonight.”
“Good luck.” She hung up the other line.
Jill took a long moment to gather her calm. She looked at Jack through the SUV window.
Realizing he was being summoned, Jack stepped out into the evening air. “Looks like Hutchings isn’t content with merely surviving.”
Jill nodded. “This may work in our favor. He’s looking for clues, but he won’t find any on that system. Not without the right passwords. Which means everything will look like normal FDPC business. Even if he thinks he’s the victim of a government conspiracy, that’ll keep him from going to any of the authorities.”
Jack grunted. “Let’s get these people to the safehouse. I wish there was a way we could force him to contact us. The sooner he knows he has to make the trade, his life for theirs, the sooner this can be done.”
Chapter 12
Gathering into the living room of Megan Clarke’s home, Kyle gestured at Dazz’s computer she was setting up. “Alright. Show us what you pulled off there.”
The punk-goth clicked her tongue, annoyed at how things had gone down. “Oh, I got a lot. Problem is, I can’t read any of it. I’ve tried to match what we’re seeing to other languages online, but that’s a bald-ass guess. This is their last line of defense. If anyone sneaks a peek at what they’re doing, all they see is gibberish written in a dead language.”
Megan perked up. “What did you call it?” She leaned in with more interest.
Laura was craning her neck, taking a look over Dazz’s shoulder. “Looks like someone spilled nuts-n-bolts all over the screen. Is that really a language?”
Danielle was hanging back, letting the others get their fill. She certainly wasn’t an expert in that field and didn’t need to see it. “You can’t recruit people who know that. I mean, I met these two agents. They were sharp enough, but you can’t tell me k
nowing a dead language was part of their background. They were taught.”
Kyle chewed on that a bit. “Huh. Fair enough. You are probably right. Not only that, but unless Claire was lying to us in a hundred different ways, she didn’t know what this was either. I guess it was possible the FDPC taught their agents this language as a way to challenge them. You know, like learning Latin in university just to prove you can. But she didn’t. She hadn’t even heard of it.”
Megan spoke up, “I know what this is.”
Startled, Kyle turned toward her, “You do?”
“I mean, I can’t read it. But I’ve seen this on a colleague’s wall chart. This is Ancient Greek.”
“Holy shit, that’s amazing! Thanks, Megan! Dazz, what can you do with that?”
Already working, the hacker-girl had opened another program and set it to work. Not long after, something started to pay dividends. But Dazz didn’t look happy with the results. “I sicked my OCR scanner on the files I copied, then fed the symbols it harvested into my best translation program. But I’m getting garbage.”
Laura asked, “What dialect is it trying to use?”
“What?”
Laura turned her new phone around, showing the search results she had just done. “Says here there are about twenty, and some of them come from entirely different language trees.”
“Oh, right. Says here it uses Koine, whatever that is.”
From the depths of her random historical knowledge, Megan provided, “Translations of the New Testament of the Bible were supposedly written in that. It is maybe the most common. And the most recent.”
Laura nodded, “I think that might be too recent. Everything I’m reading here says that Koine was what the other dialects grew into, and led into many of the modern dialects of today. The dialect on the email server is older. That’s why it’s spitting back garbage. It’s like using English to translate the script from a specific Germanic tribe. Sure, English borrowed some from it, but only what it wanted and forgot the rest.”
Kyle gritted his teeth. “Damn. They’ve gone the extra mile on this.” He looked to Megan. “You said one of your colleagues had a wall chart with this on it. Is it possible they would know which dialect we’re talking about here?”
Megan didn’t hesitate. “There’s a good chance. She’s a linguist by training, not an expert in a single tongue. Even if she doesn’t know it immediately, I’m confident she would have the resources to figure it out.”
Kyle asked, “Is she a close enough friend we could call on her tonight?”
A strange smile came to her face. “With one condition.”
“What’s that?”
“You’ll need to come with me.”
Kyle wondered about that, but then decided he would probably want to go along anyway. “Alright. Mind if I ask why?”
“A little later.”
Kyle chuckled. Everyone had their games to play, and it was clear Megan was playing one now. Considering how flexible and generous she was being to share her home; he was willing to give her the benefit of the doubt. “Dazz, can you do anything else with it?”
“I’ll leave the ancient translating to the professionals. I’ll work on the attachments that were being sucked off the computers. Claire said they were interfacing with her genetic files. Maybe I can craft something with the help of a few friends to get it to spit out whatever results they were intended to provide. Maybe I can fake it into thinking my computer is an agent’s arm computer. Text me as soon as you have the key to this puzzle. Reading these emails will be critical.”
Kyle nodded. “We will. Danielle, can I ask you a favor? I keep thinking I should text my parents and let them know I’m alright. Claire mentioned the agents were visiting witnesses again. I’m sure they have seen the news story about Dazz’s parents by now. I don’t want to drop a random text on them, especially since we can’t leave the phones on to wait for an answer and then chat about it. Can you wander by? See if they are being watched. If not, sit with them for a few minutes? Tell them what’s going on. They deserve to know, even if they don’t believe it.”
She gave him a supportive smile. “Sure.”
Laura added, “I’ll go along as well. We’re always better when we work as a team.”
He smiled. “Thanks. I owe you again.” He turned back to Megan. “Shall we?”
Unfolding herself from her seat, she said simply, “We’ll take my car.”
* * *
Megan Clarke’s car proved to be a zippy little coupe that she handled with the verve of a teenager borrowing their parent’s Porsche. She hadn’t changed out of her yoga pants and fashionable, nylon/spandex-blend, zip-up sweater. She worked the standard-gear shift pedals with her slim sneakers and a racing spirit.
The hour was rapidly approaching midnight, so the streets were all but empty. Kyle decided it was safe enough to distract her a little. “Can I ask now?”
“Why I asked you to come?”
“Yeah.”
“I gave a promise she would get to meet you.”
Kyle had a suspicion as to why he had been part of the promise. “Do I want to know why?”
“I could tell you. But then, that would ruin the surprise.”
Kyle chuckled. “You’re looking forward to this.”
Megan flashed him a smile. “If you can’t enjoy yourself once in a while, what’s the point? I know, people are out to get you. But trust me, this is a good sort of surprise.”
“What have I got to lose?”
Megan laughed softly. “Spoken like someone who hasn’t considered what he has to lose.” She took a last corner with more sharpness than was necessary, then coasted into a petite detached home on a small lot. “Et voila.”
Kyle gave her an odd look; she had spoken the French words like they were some sort of clever clue. He opened the passenger door and met her on the upper driveway. Together, they headed for the front door at the back of a porch that was shrouded by tall bushes. It was wonderfully private. A few dozen potted plants were scattered around a hanging swing, making the entrance way at the front of the house into a sort of small garden retreat.
Megan gestured for Kyle to hold back near the other side, standing in the shadows. She tapped the doorbell without any concern for the hour. There were plenty of lights on inside; there was no risk that the owner was asleep.
Instead of the door opening, an intercom speaker came to life. “Allo? Who is it?” The French accent wasn’t heavy, but strong enough that the question came out more like ‘Ooo ees eet?’, with soft ‘H’s and fuzzy, drawn-out vowels that cut to the heart of a man.
Megan’s answer was warm. “Hello, Kitten.”
“Mistress? Oh, mon Dieu! What brings you here at this hour?”
“It’s cold outside, my dear. Do you mind?”
A soft click suggested the other end had been silenced. Less than twenty seconds passed before the front door opened to reveal the rather provocatively dressed Yvette Laurier, the French teacher at Longland Community College. Kyle blinked, trying to mesh the sexual goddess standing in the doorway with the person he knew from school. And why did she call Megan ‘Mistress’?
Ms. Laurier was his French teacher, who had also taken charge of their Latin tutorials in the previous semester. While Kyle hadn’t obsessed over her in the same way as he had Megan Clarke, there was no denying her beauty. Expressive dark eyes, long sweeps of night-black hair, a slender figure that might serve her as a runway model, and of course… that accent. At school, she tended to be far less overt in her sexuality than Megan was with her short skirts and sleek stockings. Ms. Laurier favored slim pencil skirts and kawaii blouses with artful folds and draping necklines. Sexy in a more subtle sort of way.
This Yvette Laurier was in silver high heels. And a smile. Nothing else.
Kyle had imagined her under her clothes at school. Nothing prepared him for the reality. She even stood sexy, with one leg advanced in front of the other, narrowing her already enchanting profi
le. Her skin was the light mocha of one who had grown up on the white beaches of Nice on the Mediterranean Sea. Her breasts were little more than palm-sized, but stood out boldly with nipples already hard from the slight chill and her desire at seeing Megan again.
Megan let out a deep, admiring sigh. “What a vision you are.”
Yvette flickered her eyes up and down her lover’s clingy athletic wear. “Vous aussi. What a blessing these stretchy fabrics have been to modern fashion, yes?” She gave a sultry laugh.
Megan arched an eyebrow. “You’re awfully forward this evening, Kitten.”
Yvette’s face grew a little demurer, realizing she might be speaking too boldly. “I’m merely excited. You promised me that the next time that we were together, I would get the chance to change my life. I admit I anticipated something a little different.”
“A little… less?” Megan reached up and tugged the zipper on her form-fitting sweater down a couple inches in a mild tease.
Yvette didn’t answer with a challenge, but rather a meek, hopeful smile. “Or a little more.” She placed her two hands in quiet fold over her tummy, as if cradling a child inside.
“Ahh.” Megan offered her a rich smile. “I always keep my promises.” She turned to invite Kyle to come a little closer.
Amazingly, his legs didn’t fold immediately upon trying to take a step. He entered the circle of light cast by the open door. Despite his recent experience, Yvette was so striking that he still found himself fighting past the cotton-mouth sensation as he tried to speak. “Good evening, Ms. Laurier.”
To her credit, Yvette didn’t immediately dive into the house or try to hide herself. She must have trusted Megan’s judgement completely. But gentle confusion rose on the French woman’s face. “Je ne comprends pas. There was no mark of him on my phone. He is not one of the few!”