The BETA Agency

by Maxwell Coffie

  “So, when the orders came from above to cease the mission, no one was surprised. We needed a better strategy, and it was obvious to everyone. Everyone, except King. He wouldn’t hear of it. My theory is that he’d snapped—seeing so much carnage every day? It’ll do that to a person. King was out of control. And when our division tried to take him into custody, he put twelve of our best agents in the hospital. Three of them never walked again. One of them left that hospital in a body bag.

  “Maybe once, the Beta Division was a team of good agents with good intentions. Not anymore. They’re rogue, scum, nothing more. They have no regard for rules, no respect for protocol. You want to know how come they’re still in operation? It turned out that icy bat they call a director, she’d gathered dirt on prominent members of our world government. She has good men by the neck. It’s disgusting.”

  I listened, numb.

  Q glared down at me for a moment. Then, he continued, “You do realize that the reason you’re free is because of me?”

  I raised a brow. “I thought you said the S.I. bailed me?”

  “I’m the one who put in a good word for you with the captain of this station. Otherwise you’d be waiting till Mundae for a court hearing right now. I told them your arrest was circumstantial, that you were a good officer, a good gal. But I forget: are you a good officer? My memory, it doesn’t serve quite as well these days. Getting too old.”

  Great Light, he liked to talk.

  “What do you want?” I spat.

  “Sol King,” he said, coolly. “He’s dangerous, and highly unstable. Just tell me where he is, where I can find him. You owe me that much.”

  I stared at him, unspeaking, for a moment. Eventually, I asked, “If you had found out about my reanimation, in any circumstance other than this, would you have tried to get me my job back? Could you have looked past these rubriq, and told anybody that I was a ‘good gal’?”

  Q just stared back.

  I leaned in, till my lips were touching his woody ear. “Then,” I whispered, “I don’t owe you zilch-muck.”

  Q shook his head, and stood up. “You’re being incredibly stupid. And you’re choosing the wrong side.”

  “Haven’t you heard? I’m a black-blood.” I said. “I’m one of them now.”

  CHAPTER 41

  I didn’t hear from anybody on the Beta team, even after I’d found my way back home. It wasn’t till I was back in my apartment, sitting numbly on my bed and feeling like the biggest idiot in the five worlds, did I realize how mad I was.

  My so called team had abandoned me. They’d left me to get arrested! What kind of team did that?

  I fumed as I unpacked. I was going to give them all a piece of my mind the next time I saw them. Even Po. Especially Po. Who did she think she was, anyway, treating me like some kind of mental case?

  I was seething by the time I went to the living room, and sat before the screen. I tried to watch some hoverball pre-season shows.

  On every network, there was a lot of hype for the first hoverball match of the season, which was fast approaching. I watched one panel as they discussed game factors and made vague pseudo-intellectual predictions about the coming season.

  Guys, it’s amazing how, for the first time in almost twenty years, one of the analysts was saying to his colleagues, the Crystal Lake Warriors are in the top five teams to look out for.

  That’s right Kell, another analyst said. And it’s all thanks to their new starting striker Chard Heller .

  Yeah, the fans can’t get enough of that kid, laughed a third analyst. And he hasn’t even played in a real game yet. Expectations are through the roof.

  I’ve heard a few people say that they think he’s overrated, the first analyst said. That the Warriors may be betting too heavily on one striker. What do you make of that?

  Well, they have a point Kell, second analyst said. Before this season, nobody had heard of this kid. Supposedly, he played for a small town college team up north of Bagaddon a couple of years back. But according to his old team mates—and guys you remember that interview from last week….

  We remember, said Third Analyst.

  Apparently, Heller was hardly exceptional down there, continued Second Analyst. It is amazing that he has gotten so good so fast. So yes, I think it does make sense that a few fans are sceptical. But, then again, we’ve all seen the kid play at those practice games. He is on fire.

  My daughter has a crush on him, chuckled the third analyst.

  First analyst was nodding. Yes, he’s turning out to be quite the heart throb too.

  Maybe the Warriors won’t win this season, said the second analyst. But Heller’s brought something the Warriors haven’t had in a long time—hope. And that brings with it all sorts of goodies: corporate endorsement, sponsorships, bonuses and incentives from the local government.

  It’s going to be a great season for the Warriors, the third analyst agreed.

  It’s going to be a great season, plain and simple, said the first analyst, before turning to the viewers. We’ll be right back after these messages.

  I munched through a bag of baked chips as I watched. It was all very exciting. Or at least, it was supposed be. But, it was hard for me to tap into the hype. Other things were nagging at my mind: psychopaths, and ripped faces, and unanswered questions.

  I was mad at the Beta team, but I was itching to get back to investigating.

  I got my tablet out and started to work.

  It was late afternoon, when the doorbell rang. I sat up, startled.

  “DEB, what time is it?” I asked.

  “Fifteen into the sixteenth hour,” DEB answered.

  The doorbell rang again.

  The person at the door is an unidentified male, Arra, DEB continued. Should I call triple nil?

  “Hold on to that thought.” I jumped up, and grabbed a knife from the kitchen. Then, carefully, I made my way to the door and tapped the doorbell monitor on the wall. The tiny screen lit up to show a high angled shot of a man in a purple hood. The man looked up at the camera, and waved.

  I sighed. “DEB, forget that call.”

  Very well.

  I opened the door, and stared at Sol King, standing in my doorway.

  Finally, I said, “You abandoned me. I ought to punch you in the face right now.”

  His smile was stiff. “Sorry about that. You were supposed to run.”

  “Yes, I realize that now.”

  “Can you please get rid of that?” He was eying my knife. “We both know how that’ll end.”

  I turned around, and he followed me into the apartment, closing the door behind him.

  “I didn’t say you could come in,” I said, tossing the knife back into a drawer.

  “Your hallway is drafty.”

  He stopped at the mouth of my living room, and stared at me, his hands in his pocket. “So…” he began.

  Silence. It was making me nervous.

  “What?” I finally asked.

  “That mission was a bust,” he said.

  I sat down, slowly for some reason. “Tell me about it,” I mumbled.

  “It could have gone better,” he said.

  “It should’ve.” My palms were getting sweaty. I wiped them on my pants. “But at least, we stopped the Puppeteer from making his announcement, right?”

  “True,” King said, with a shrug. “Except we still have no idea why he took Pethro’s body.”

  I chewed on the inside of my mouth. “Now you’re thinking we should’ve let him give the speech first?”

  “Maybe.”

  I was going to say something, but then King spoke first: “That was weird, what Pethro said to you, wasn’t it?”

  I froze, and then tried to feign ignorance. “What was weird?”

  “When he said you weren’t Fey,” King said, with a dry laugh. “You’ve gotten so bad at this job, even your enemies don’t recognize you.”

  I paused, and let out a weak laugh. There was a strange timbre to King’s
voice that was making me uneasy.

  “Maybe he’s the one losing his edge,” I joked, but King didn’t laugh. Now, he was circling me.

  “No,” he said. “No, I don’t think that’s it.”

  There was an uncomfortable silence.

  “Would you like a drink?” I offered.

  “Water.”

  I went to the kitchen, and filled a glass at the kitchen tap. My hands were trembling. I could feel it in my gut—something was wrong.

  When I returned to the living room, King was looking at my tablet screen. “What you got there?” he asked, as he received his water, and sat down.

  “Research,” I said, sitting down. I put my hands between my knees to keep them still. “I’ve been looking up the whole hospital calendar thing. Remember I said I would?”

  King nodded.

  “As expected, most health centres and hospitals discontinued traditional printing in the last century. But there are still a select few hospitals in Aurora that paper print for special needs—something to do with bright screens and sensitive eyes. Some patients, because of their treatment, are given paper calendars as part of their care package,” I explained. “Personally, I don’t think it makes a lot of sense, but that’s premium care for you I guess.”

  “That still doesn’t answer our questions,” King said, “Why did he have the calendar with him? And should we give a damn?”

  “Still not sure yet,” I said. “But do you remember that on that rooftop at the Chalice, the Puppeteer was going on about drug companies? Something about making them more autonomous, and speeding up drug approval processes.”

  “He was just rambling, Fey,” King said. “It was just an act.”

  “What if it wasn’t? First, we find an inter-dimensional assassin with a hospital paper calendar, and then, we find out that he’s hijacked the body of the president of the Aurora Health Organization. Two odd health-related elements. Are they just a coincidence?”

  King shrugged.

  I sighed. “There’s something there,” I muttered. “I know it.”

  King scratched his head, and smiled. “You done playing detective?”

  I offered a shaky smile. “Yeah, I guess.”

  “Good. I came here to deliver news,” he said. “Imp sent word back from K’har. Haseph’s employer has fled the world. He must’ve heard of Haseph’s incarceration and put two and two together.”

  “Is Haseph free yet?” I asked.

  “No, the Director is still working on it. The K’har authorities won’t even let her talk to Haseph. It’s not looking good.”

  “So, we still don’t know the Puppeteer’s real name,” I said.

  “No,” King said. “Not unless we find that employer and make him tell us. The employer’s name is Massah Tsukr. Records show that he flew into Aurora last night on his own travel ID.”

  “That’s not very smart,” I said.

  “It’s smart enough. My guess is that he came here to find a good hacker and digital ID forger. It’s unlikely he stayed in this world for more than a few hours., before using his new ID to travel to another world.”

  I chewed on the disappointing news for a moment. “So, what now?” I asked.

  “We find out which of the three remaining worlds he’s run off to,” King said. “Flora, Hiti, or the Rim.”

  “My bet is on Hiti,” I said, forcing what I hoped looked like a sly smile. “Probably on a beach somewhere, soaking up some sun. You?”

  King seemed to hesitate. “Flora, I think,” he said. “There are more remote regions there. It would be easier to hide from us and S.I..”

  I nodded. “So, how do we make sure of where’s he’s gone?”

  King smiled. “We ask. Which brings me to another thing: I need your help for a quick job tomorrow.”

  That surprised me. “Um, okay. Sure.”

  “Great.” He said. He rose up to leave. “I’ll contact you early tomorrow morning. Be outside your building by the sixth hour.”

  I nodded. “Sure okay.”

  I followed him to the front door. Before he left, he smiled at me. But there was something off about his smile. The warmth and hints of cheekiness I had seen in his expressions before were gone now. The smile was almost…cold.

  “Are you okay?” I blurted out, before closing the door.

  He looked surprised. “Yes. Why do you ask?”

  I hesitated, and then went up to him, and kissed him on the cheek. I thought maybe it was something the real Fey would do, especially now that she was engaged to him. But, I regretted it the fraction I did it.

  King looked amused. “Good night,” he said.

  “Good night.”

  I closed the door, and sunk to the floor, fear seizing my entire being. He didn’t need to say it; my instincts were screaming it out.

  King knew I wasn’t Fey Watters.

  CHAPTER 42

  At exactly the sixth hour the next morning, I grabbed my coat and went out to meet King.

  The street was deathly still, and the air was cold. I leaned against the wall of the building to wait, wondering briefly if King was going to lure me into a dark corner, and murder me.

  Shut up, I thought to myself. I was simply being paranoid. There was no way King knew that I wasn’t Fey. I had been very careful. I had said all the right things (hopefully), and acted the right way (probably). Also, he had proposed to me just a few days ago.

  I turned up my collar, and touched the encrusted rings strung around my neck, squeezing them in my palm. It was ironic that they gave me reassurance.

  After a couple of moments, somebody tugged at my elbow. I looked down to see a little Ruby boy. He handed me a piece of paper.

  Puzzled, I thanked the boy and read the paper:

  Follow the kid.

  “Who gave you this?” I asked the boy, though I already had a good guess.

  The boy only stared back. Then, he turned around and started to walk. I sighed, and followed.

  The boy led me down several streets, before turning suddenly into an alley. We walked through several back alleys, over fences, and across narrow streets. After about half an hour, we arrived at one of the city’s more remote district parks.

  “Wait here,” the boy said, before walking away.

  “Thanks,” I called after him, and mumbled, “I guess.”

  I surveyed the park. It looked old, tired. The grass was faded and patchy. The wheel-about, swings, and slides were all rusty, and even the trees looked like they had a case of the grumps.

  My eyes shifted to the surrounding buildings. They were drab, and worn. A group of teenagers passed by, each of them covered in body piercings, tattoos, and most noticeably, rubriq.

  I was in a beta neighbourhood.

  I was wary for moment. Then, I realized the irony.

  “Excuse me.”

  I turned. There was a girl, with bright pink hair, and wide red eyes. I noticed the rubriq all across her chest.

  She twitched. “Y-you have to come with me.”

  Wordlessly, I followed her out the park, down the street, and into one of the beat-up buildings.

  It was dark inside. We walked down a corridor, up multiple flights of stairs, till we were on the highest floor. Then, she led me to the door at the end of the hall. She gestured at me to open it.

  So, I did.

  Large, heavily built men; the room was full of them. I counted five on either side of the room, all of them tattooed, and pierced, and showing off body rubriq. There was a man in the middle I assumed to be the leader. He was a Ruby, with so many tattoos and rows of rubriq on his face that I could hardly tell them apart. He was seated in an armchair, wearing a fur coat over his shirtless torso. He smiled, and I glimpsed his crooked teeth.

  I had not been expecting this.

  “Get your rump in here,” he ordered.

  Cautiously, I stepped into the room. The girl followed me, and closed the door.

  “I brought her, Kaz,” she whimpered, twitching up a
storm. “I brought her just like you asked. Can I get a hit? Not a big hit or nothin’. Just a little hit.”

  I knew what she was begging for: narcotics. Maybe zoom, or metalweed, or flack.

  One of the men tossed her a tiny vial of inky black liquid. Zoom it was.

  I watched her promptly, desperately, throw back the contents of the vial in one gulp. Her eyes glazed over, and she slumped to the ground in a long, delirious sigh. The same man who had given the girl the zoom hoisted her over his shoulder, and carried her out.

  I couldn’t bear to wonder about what he would do with her.

  “Can I help you?” I asked the leader, the one the girl had called Kaz.

  He sized me up. “So you’re the bat lookin’ to take over my block?”

  I blinked. “I am?”

  He snapped, and two more of his cronies dragged a bound up, wriggling man into the room. One of them yanked off the sack covering the man’s head.

  “Watch the hair,” the man grumbled, and then noticed me. He lit up. “Oh hi, Fey.”

  My mouth dropped. “King?”

  “Right?” King said, looking genuinely surprised. “I’m just as surprised as you. Didn’t expect to be taken in so easily. But then, of course, I didn’t expect that.” He nodded at the blinking, tube-shaped device dangling from the ceiling.

  A mana dissipater.

  “So you mean—“ I stuttered.

  “No powers,” he said, cheerily. “But it’s okay. These guys look like a reasonable bunch. You sir, you look like you call your mother.”

  A crony humphed.

  I ignored his last statement. “What are we doing here?”

  “Oh, didn’t I say? I may have mentioned to these lovely gentlemen that you intend to take over their drug trade. Also, I may or may not have repeated those funny things you said about their genitals.”

  “Hmm?” Kaz grunted.

  “I didn’t mention that?” King looked up our captors. “It’s fine, guys. They weren’t that funny anyway. Okay, I lied. They were hilarious.”

  Immediately, the cronies pounced on me.