Eternals Among Us: Book one

by Larry W. Miller Jr.

  The tall man was intrigued. “Just who is this brother of yours?” He asked in genuine curiosity.

  The man smiled. “Marshall Faulkner” he replied. “The final thing I want is a written admittance that you had his wife killed. I know it will not stand up in court. It is not for that; it is for personal reasons.” He stated.

  “What?!” The tall man asked suddenly enraged. “That’s what this is all about? That detective’s little quest?” He stood up quickly as if to throw this man out of his office. He almost did so. The little voice in his head stopped him just in time. “You can really get me the five likeliest places to find the fugitives?” He asked.

  Marshall’s brother was still smiling. “Of course. I would not have wasted either of our time if I could not deliver. For my stake in this, my brother has lost pretty much everything. If I can get him some closure on this open wound in his mind, then maybe, just maybe he can move on and get his life back. Not the old one to be sure, but at least some kind of life.”

  “So, am I to assume that you are just being a good brother and have no intention of following up on any legal action?” The tall man asked.

  “No legal action will be taken by me.” He said holding up his hand palm forward. “I can put that in writing if you like.”

  The tall man shook his head. “That sort of document would be useless in court anyway.” He said dismissively. Then he looked down at the seated man once more. He hadn’t noticed the resemblance before, but this man did look similar to the detective thorn in his side. This man was a lot cleaner and more dignified though. Perhaps he looked like the detective would have if he hadn’t flushed his life down the toilet chasing a dream that could never come true. But then, was it coming true now?

  “First of all, on your terms… I do not have your brother in custody. I cannot give him to you. I can remove the marker on his life though. Will that serve?”

  “You’ve hired a hit out on Marshall?” His brother was aghast. “How long ago was this issued?” He asked, wondering if Marshall was still alive or not.

  The tall man waved his hand in a shooing gesture. “The man I hired always takes his time. Wants to make sure the job is done right. He always contacts me as soon as the job is done, and he has not yet called. So, your brother is currently still alive. I’d say the motivator here is for you to deliver so that I can remove the marker in good faith, thus saving your brother’s life.” He said with a matching smile.

  It was true that negotiating with the tall man was never pleasant, but the man was ruthless. His smile was just as evil as any of the words he had spoken.

  “I’ll need that letter too. We will exchange like in the old days with parchments.” Marshall’s brother insisted.

  The tall man cringed. He had the capabilities to write on parchment, but he loathed the painstaking detail it required to make it readable, let alone be beautifully handcrafted. This could take more time than he was willing to spend on this project. Plus, there was the off-hand chance that they could produce the confession to open a very old case. He could not take the chance of that. His position relied on nobody knowing he was here at all. How could he get out of this and still trick this man into giving up the information he had gleaned? There had to be a way.

  “Then I trust you have your parchment ready with the pertinent information?” The tall man asked.

  “Yes, I do.” Was the response.

  “Then I had better get to writing.” He said to appease the upstart in front of him. To think anyone on board had the gall to try and twist something out of him! It was laughable. He was older than everyone else on board by the widest of margins imaginable. He had been swindling people for centuries when the colonization initiative began. In fact, he had used other people’s money to back the project.

  He pulled out one sheet of the antique paper. It was actually a cotton weave and cotton was very hard to come by out in space. It was not a food crop, so the bio-domes rarely even planted it. But it was also used for filters. So, it was planted from time to time. He had made a personal stash of parchment sheets long ago. There were only a couple left now. He slid the ancient sheet out of its wooden drawer. He picked up his stylus and dipped the tip into the inkwell. This all seemed so barbaric to him but to the avid historian, this was the high point of society. If something was written down, it had to be worth writing down because the effort to do so weeded out the average or substandard words. It was obvious that the tall man’s hand had held a stylus for a long time. His fingers were indented where it pressed against them. His arm and shoulder were in the exact right place to write and his eyes scanned the parchment as if laying out the text before beginning. In fact, that was precisely what he was doing. It takes only time and practice to become proficient in any skill. With the tall man’s apparently unlimited life span, his level of skill on everything he did was exemplary. His strokes were even, and his penmanship was perfection. He began to write…

  It is under a watchful eye that I pen this confession.

  It has been some time since I ordered the death of Mrs. Faulkner. The woman knew too much and had to be eliminated. It is under duress that I write this message. The previous lines have been listed as inadmissible in court. I suspect a breach of this contract is to ensue. If such a breach does occur, then this message shall be null and void of any incriminating content pursuant to the no self-incrimination clause in our judicial system’s bylaws. May this message bring peace to the poor fallen detective on his personal quest to destroy me.

  Signed: V

  The tall man handed over the parchment. It only just barely dried enough not to run. If you folded it or rolled it right now, it would become a smeared mess. Marshall’s brother read the parchment and furrowed his brow.

  “This is rather non-committal.” He said aloud.

  “You said it was not for court. I am only making sure you keep your word.” The tall man replied. “You are lucky to get this form at all. I never admit to anything. Even if I did, there is always someone to vouch for my presence very far away from whatever I am being accused of.” He said calmly. Then his eyes turned intense. “Now tell me what I want to know.” He demanded. “You have what you came for. Your brother can read it over and over if he likes. That is, if he can read script.” The tall man amended.

  “He can read.” The man replied, a bit put off. “I am going to transmit the coordinates to you as soon as I am safe.” He added.

  “That was not our deal.” The tall man accused.

  “Really? What exactly was our deal?” He asked. The tall man thought about it for a long moment, replaying the scenes in his head. The man sighed. “What I said was that I would tell you the four or five most likely places to find your fugitives after I got this letter and my brother was returned to me. You managed half of my criteria, so I am managing half of your criteria. Call it insurance that I get my brother back.” He said a bit smugly. But it was not arrogant. If anything, his stance was respectful. This guy knew how to manipulate people. He knew how the game was played and since the tall man had not met another with this skill level before, he found it infinitely refreshing.

  “Very well, transmit those coordinates. The marker has been removed from your brother. I will give you two hours to find him and reunite. After that the marker goes on you. I will not be cheated.” The tall man warned.

  “I understand.” Marshall’s brother replied, bowed and left.

  The tall man sat back down at his desk. This guy had been pushy. Normally he would have liked that. But he had been the one being pushed. It wasn’t as much fun from this side. He moved over and flipped the intercom switch.

  “I want five teams ready. I will give coordinates in about two hours and I want them ready to strike. The fugitives are now on a shoot on sight order. They have outlived their usefulness.” He ordered into that device.

  “Of course, sir, right away.” Was the always professional response.

  ∆ ∆ ∆

  A New Initiative…r />
  Marshall had made his way through the tunnels and corridors of zero-G and had come out a long way from anywhere he was familiar with. Just how big was this ship? He was careful not to get too close to any surveillance cameras and he would not use his personal ID for anything here. Right now, this place was safe. Any mistakes would change that quickly. He had been running forever it felt like. He was hungry too. Could he get food without giving himself away? He needed to try but was afraid to do so. Surely the assassin who had shot at him could not have figured out where he went. He had at least one good transaction in him before the bad guys would come. He moved to a darker place. It was a small food synthesizer station. It had no manned occupant, so it was a machine operator through and through.

  Marshall made a selection and then waved a personal card across the payment terminal. The light turned green and indicated that the payment had been processed. Marshall suddenly felt relieved. The food dispensed right away, and the small foil-wrapped package was deftly put into his coat pocket for consumption at a safer location. He considered going back to the channel again, but it was awfully hard to eat regular food in zero gravity. He opted instead for a dark corner like a street bum would use.

  The foil was still warm when he retrieved his prize. The food was edible, but only barely so. It was a burrito made from protein deposit and scorched in a simulated corn tortilla. It was loaded with nutrients though. It was also loaded with salt because if you buy a burrito, they also want you to buy a beverage to go with it. The salt naturally entices this reaction. Marshall was just finishing up his burrito when his communicator chimed. He jumped up and grabbed it closely. The sound might give him away. Then the wonder hit him.

  “Who could that be? Nobody knows this device and how to reach me on it.” He said to himself. He looked at the device and smiled. It was his brother. The message was puzzling though.

  “Your worries are over, please come to me right away. You know where I live. I’ve got a present for you.”

  The message ended just as abruptly as it had begun.

  “My worries are over?” He considered if this was a code or something. It didn’t seem like one, but maybe…

  He began to respond.

  “On a case. Will come when convenient to do so. Deep, deep undercover.”

  He sent back.

  “Time is of the essence, urgently request your presence. Markers are involved.”

  His brother messaged him.

  “Markers on whom?”

  Marshall asked.

  “Both of us!”

  His brother replied quickly. That was the most serious message he had ever received. He knew that he had been shot at. So, hearing about markers was not unexpected. But to hear that they both may have one was more than he could have predicted.

  “On my way.”

  He replied finally. He wondered if the kids would be all right. But now there were more pressing matters. They were resourceful. He was sure they could hold out for at least a little while. He was determined to save his brother though. He did know where to go and it wasn’t all that close. It was going to be a risky journey especially with a marker on his head. He wondered how close he could get in that zero-gravity channel. He pulled it up on his Pad device and then followed the lines. He was delighted to find that there was an exit not far from his destination. He backtracked to the channel once more to begin his new quest.

  The map had been correct, and Marshall made his way with little trouble. The zero-gravity channel was one of the best ways to travel. He had made great time and before he knew it, his legs were adjusting to gravity once more on the far end of his route. He kept thinking to himself, “Why haven’t I used these before?” But of course he had not realized that they were there. What a mistake that had been. He made his way to his brother’s place and was greeted with a standard security seal. That was odd. Security seals were used when a citizen was incarcerated to keep looters from taking everything while they were away. What had happened here?

  “Ah, you made it.” The voice was familiar, but the tone was not. Marshall turned around to see his brother looking at him from a hooded outfit that looked rather suspicious.

  “Is that really you?” Marshall asked.

  “It was.” His brother replied. Marshall looked even more confused.

  “What is going on here? What is this business about markers?” He asked in succession.

  “You had a marker on you, but I have bargained for its removal at the cost of my own marker. If I do not transmit the data I bargained with, my marker goes into effect in a few minutes.” He explained.

  Marshall squinted at his brother, not sure what he was looking for, but knowing something was up. “Why is your home sealed?” He asked.

  “The tall man decided I was not to have access to it until my end of the bargain was fulfilled.” He replied.

  “What did you bargain with?” Marshall asked and his brother smiled. It didn’t look pleasant.

  “The location of those fugitives.” He replied. It almost sounded like a hiss coming from him.

  “No!” Marshall exclaimed. “You can’t do that!” He added. “They were only helping me.”

  Marshall’s brother bowed briefly as if in thought. “I know. I had to sacrifice them to get you off the hook. We can be brothers again.” He said.

  “Sacrifice? My brother wouldn’t do that.” Marshall protested.

  “How would you know? You have thought nothing of me for so long you do not even know my name.” His brother hissed in defiance.

  Marshall paused. “Sure I do it’s…” The name was not in his memory. He searched and searched. There was nothing. He had no recollection of even having a brother. Yet the man was standing before him. “What have you done to me?” Marshall finally replied.

  “Hah! It is you who forgot me. I have been following you, hoping that you would return to the light, but you never did.” His demeanor was that of a predator, readying to pounce. “It is time you came back to me.” He said and sounded menacing.

  Marshall was suddenly very afraid. How could he have known the address to go to without knowing who this man was? Had he ever had a brother? How had he felt that he did? It had been an unquestioned thought moments ago. Then a sudden realization hit him. He really did have no family. His parents had been lost to an explosive decompression and if he hadn’t been at school at the time, he would have shared their fate. He had been an only child. He had been an orphan. Maybe that was it. What had his family life been like before? He could hardly remember anything but his hatred for the tall man, Vincent. Had he been fostered? He tried very hard to wrack his brain for the answers, but none were forthcoming.

  “Who are you really?” Marshall finally asked. It was partially because he really didn’t know and partially to stall for time. He knew that something was amiss here. He needed to get his wits back in order to puzzle out what to do next. It was obvious that this man, whoever he was, had the upper hand here.

  “You really do not know me?” The proposed brother asked. “You don’t know the one who raised you?” He added to rub salt in the wound. “I was your everything, the reason you lived.” He taunted.

  Marshall was so off balance he couldn’t put words to his thoughts. “I… I mean…” He began but no cognitive thoughts would surface. Then his anger flared and shed just a little bit of light into his mind. “Who the hell are you?” He asked directly.

  The man laughed. “You have grown stronger since last we met.” He said with a bit of respect in it. “But you are a long way from all right.” He added. Marshall felt a chill run down his spine at the thought.

  “So I did know you once?” Marshall asked.

  “Of course you did. I was there every time for you. Don’t you remember anything?” The question was more of a jibe than an actual query.

  “Did you erase my memory?” Marshall asked.

  “No, but you are getting warmer.” The antagonist before Marshall replied.

  “No m
atter who you are, you cannot sacrifice those children!” Marshall said, getting back to the matter at hand. He would deal with whoever this was later, after the kids were safe.

  “Oh, you think it is so easy to break a deal with the tall man?” He replied at the frightened detective. “Perhaps your brain is addled more than I thought.” He said. It was maddening not to know what he was talking about. Marshall’s patience was wearing thin and his heightened fear wasn’t helping his self-control.

  “Look. I am just trying to save those innocents. It no longer matters what happens to me.” Marshall pleaded.

  “Not so fast. I made a deal to save you and you throw it back in my face like this?” His brother replied, sounding hurt. Then he laughed and it sounded evil. “You cannot escape your destiny that easily. You need to identify who I am in order to move forward. The children are irrelevant.” He told Marshall.

  “No, they’re not.” Marshall replied. He was trying to stand up to this figure who knew way more than he did about everything that mattered. He was unsure if he could even get way, let alone defeat this adversary. But the crises of Tina and Lock was real. He had their fates in his hands. If he failed it would on his hands that the blood would land.

  He looked up one last time, determined. “You will not sacrifice them to save me.” He said and the shot rang out. His gun went off three times, it was nearly point-blank range and his brother, or whoever it really was, fell backwards. The figure did not, however, fall down. Instead it leaned up again and laughed once more.

  “You can be surprising still, but then so can I.” The figure said. The tone was that of sheer amusement. “So, you would kill your brother to protect those that you hardly even know?” He mocked Marshall.

  “You are not my brother!” Marshall said and he aimed once more. His gun emptied into the figure that danced around, seemingly enjoying the experience. Hit after hit left the monster unfazed.