"What happened to your desk?"
"Coffee. Clean that up later. Come with me. I have an angry mob to assuage."
10
Blice stares at the flashing of cameras and the hundreds of reporters filling the streets. His secretary hands him a piece of paper with times and details on it then fixes his tie. He already feels like he's going to be sick. It's not that he's a stranger to public appearances, it's the subject of this that is grinding on his fortitude. He doubts he can do this, but he has to. It's his job. He steps up to the podium and holds his hand up to silence the crowd. Once they are silent, he begins.
"As you know, I am Master Director Blice McSage of the Inquisition and I will be giving all the details of the events that occurred this afternoon to the best of my knowledge. At 2:06, the space transport landed on the space station and I received a call from my partner, Inquisitor Williams, stating that things were not as expected on board the ship. They were not able to immediately locate the one thousand two hundred and fifty-three T.I.M.E.s. I advised the group to continue with the mission and look for any sign of them. At 2:24, I received another call from Inquisitor Williams who was very distraught and worried because while the ship was in pristine condition with no evidence of a struggle, save some substance they surmised might be blood on the floor, he could not find the T.I.M.E.s. At this point, he informed me that Montgomery and Erikson had gone missing. I advised him to continue searching and I called Inquisitor Clark to see if he had received any abnormal interference or signals from the space station. At 2:37, I answered another call from Inquisitor Williams and his vital signs, which I had been monitoring, were evidentiary of panic and perhaps a physical altercation. I advised him to remain calm. I then ended the transmission. After that, around 2:40, I received multiple calls from Inquisitor Williams that I was unable to answer and by the time I was able to answer them, I could not get a response. At 2:43, Inquisitor William's vital signs went dead. Finally, at 2:44, the emergency signal from his communicator went off and sounded out in Paradise. I then alerted emergency officials. It has been three hours and his heart is still not beating. There is no sign of life on board the space station. That is why we have issued a code black and I need Paradise on lockdown. Flights will be grounded and no one enters or leaves Paradise until further notice. I will take some of your questions now."
"Master Director, what is the plan now?"
"The Inquisition is working alongside the Outlander Force and the emergency management division. Once we have a concrete plan in action, we will let everyone know."
"Of the three who went to the space station, have any been accounted for?"
"At this moment, we still are trying to reach someone. We are doing everything we can to find out what is occurring on the ship and if there are any survivors." Blice chokes back tears and knows that he can't lose it right here. He's the Master Director of the Inquisition who would never be able to move past crying on television. The longer he stays here and takes questions, the more he worries about Isidore. What went wrong and where? He continues answering the questions, but his eyes are always on his watch, waiting for some sign of Isidore's vitals coming back online and his mind is praying for his friend.
One question from a reporter shocks him back into reality.
"Is it true that you are the prime suspect in this case?"
Where is this coming from? "No. I can assure you that I had no part in this and anyone who did have anything to do with this will face quick and severe discipline. There are no suspects in this case right now."
Miss Aveline hands him a slip of paper.
Police Chief Andrews needs to speak with you A.S.A.P. You are the prime suspect. Don't answer any more questions about this.
Well, shit. How dare they suspect him in this travesty? So now they suspect him of doing something to send three men to their deaths? Perfect. As if this day couldn't get any better. He can't do this. He turns his back to the reporters and is met with police officers and guards. Apparently he's going now. The police officers grab his arms and escort him down the street to the security headquarters.
They forcefully push him into the slick polished lobby. His footsteps echo in the large room. Why are they treating him like a criminal? Sure, he hates Damien and Byron with an unnatural passion, but he wouldn't sabotage an Inquisition mission and risk harming his friend in the process.
The receptionist motions to the right. "The police chief is in room four."
The officers half drag him down the hallway and force him into a room.
Blice pulls his arm away from the officers. This is ridiculous. They can't treat him like this. He looks around the small concrete room with the wooden table in the middle and handcuffs secured to the chair. An interrogation room? He swears right here that he is going to kill his father. Police Chief Andrews grins at him. Blice crosses his arms as the heavy door is shut and bolted closed behind him. "You wanted to speak with me?"
"Have a seat, Mr. Evans."
"It's McSage." Blice says.
"Not according to our records. You will be addressed by your actual name while you are here. Have a seat, Mr. Evans."
Blice takes off his coat and sits across the table from his new enemy. "Try to handcuff me and see what happens to you."
"Calm down. No one said anything about that."
"Then why are they right here and why are we talking in a room like this? Don't think for one second that I don't know what goes on in here. Is this some kind of publicity stunt? Torturing the leader of the Inquisition?"
"Again, no one mentioned anything about torture . . . yet."
"Oh, you think you're so funny, don't you?"
Andrews leans forward and looks Blice in the eyes. "We know you orchestrated this entire mission and sent subpar people to do what should have been an Inquisition job."
Blice leans back in the chair and crosses his legs. "There was an inquisitor with them."
"A T.I.M.E. You sent a computer to do a man's job."
"I sent a capable, courageous, and honorable man to do a man's job."
"But he was a computer." Andrews says as he flips through his book of papers.
No matter what he tries to tell them, no one will ever listen. "Fine. I sent a computer who I trusted completely and all I know is that forces outside of my control caused something somewhere to either glitch or cause an unwanted outcome. I have no say in what happens on board that space station. I sent the three men I felt could do the best job with this mission. My word should be enough for someone like you."
"Excuse me?"
"You heard me, bastard."
The door opens again and three officers rush in, hold Blice down and secure the handcuffs around his wrists.
Blice pulls against them. "So what? Now you chain me to a chair? What is wrong with you people? Do you know who I am?"
"A criminal."
Blice can't help but laugh. "A criminal? I have done more good for this city than every police officer combined. Now you have the audacity to call me a criminal?"
"Blice Antonio Evans McSage, you are under arrest for murder, conspiracy, and treason. Be grateful that your father has temporarily dismissed the others."
"The others? What others?" Blice asks.
"Fifty-eight counts of sexual assault, fifteen counts of sexual indecency, harboring forbidden Inquisition technology, six counts of espionage, and thirty counts of terroristic threatening."
Sexual assault? Espionage? What forbidden technology? Surely they aren't talking about Isidore. None of this is right. "How do you have the right to say something like that?"
"We are the law, Mr. Evans."
"I am the law in Paradise." Blice screams at him. "Does the Inquisition not have power anymore?"
"The Inquisition does. You don't ." Andrews reaches over and takes Blice's throat in his hand. "We can do this one of two ways, Evans. Either you submit to my authority or we will be forced to extract the information we need."
Blice kicks
at the police chief's legs under the table. "Keep your filthy hands off of me."
The hand only tightens around his neck. "You don't have the right to talk to me like that, Mr. Evans."
"It's Master Director." Blice manages to say as he gasps for air.
"Not anymore."
"What?"
"Your father has stripped your title from you. You've been disowned." Andrews lets him go and puts a cell phone on the table.
Blice takes a deep breath before he speaks. "You're joking. He wouldn't do that."
"I have the paperwork right here. Signed and everything."
That bastard. Of course his father has been behind all of this. No doubt partially because of their conversation earlier this afternoon.
"He will give you your position back and let you go if you agree to call off your code black, reopen the airport, and forget about the space station incident."
"How am I supposed to forget about it?" Blice asks. "Three men are up there-"
"Two men were up there. Now they've been declared dead. The other was a computer and no one will miss him."
Blice feels a cold chill spread down his arms. "I'll miss him."
"That's not my problem. It's not Paradise's problem. And it certainly isn't the Unified State's problem."
"I'm not going to call it off. We lost a good inquisitor today and he deserves the same honor that any other member of the Inquisition would get. We're still under code black."
"We thought you would say something like that." Andrews snaps his fingers.
Heavy hands hold Blice down in the chair and two officers secure a metal device around his arms. Now he can't move at all. The officers hold up baseball bats.
"Really? You're going to hit me with those? Nice. I'm not afraid of you." Blice says.
A few hits, a bloody nose, and multiple bruises later, Blice cries out. "Stop! I'll do it."
Andrews smiles and dials the phone then slides it across the table towards Blice. "Let Paradise know that the danger is gone."
The tart blood is trickling down onto his lips and he knows this will never be over if he doesn't do this. He vows that he will find justice for Isidore, but he can't endure more of this abuse. President Evans will never hear the end of Blice's complaints about being treated like this. He's no criminal. He's the highest ranking government official under the president. Brute force is despicable and interrogating him should be a crime in itself. He has no choice now so he leans forward and addresses the people. "This is Master Director McSage. As of this moment, the three men who went missing on the space station have been declared dead. The incident has been declared an equipment failure. The investigation has been suspended indefinitely and there is no ongoing risk to Paradise. The airport is now reopened and life should continue as normal."
Police Chief Evans ends the call and motions for the officers to unbind Blice. "Was that so hard?"
"Go to hell." Blice stands and tosses down the handcuffs.
"You're bleeding a bit, McSage."
Blice ignores their laughter and jokes. He's in no mood for this. Now he has to go find a medic to sew up his busted lip and fix the possible broken nose. He reaches up to touch his face and the pain causes him to stop walking. His hand is bloody and the pain is nearly blinding. Fine. It's broken. What hurts worse than his broken nose? Those other accusations. Someone is out to slander his name and if it's his father, he will have his revenge.
11
Damien slips out of the shadows and runs as fast as he can down the corridors until the automatic doors open and he steps back into the hangar. There's the transport. If he can make it there, he can get back home. He opens the door and sits inside. Time to get out of this hell. He places his hand on the console and it lights up, but something's wrong. He looks over the display. The fuel gauge. He dials the number for his partner on his sensor again. "Dear God, I'm a dead man."
"What is it?" Seth asks.
"The fuel's gone."
"From the transport?"
"Yes, from the transport. I can't get out. I'm stuck here."
"How is the fuel gone?" Seth asks. "You should have had enough to make this trip at least four times. Are there any other transports there?"
Damien looks around in the emptiness. "No. There's nothing here."
"Stay hidden and don't make any sound. Find a place to hide. I will go try to ask the Inquisition for help. Maybe we can send another transport. If we can, it will be there within the hour. Have you seen any sign of Byron?"
"No. I hope he didn't meet the same fate as Isidore."
"Don't worry about them right now." Seth says. "You need to get into a hiding place. There's no telling what is going on up there and if someone is killing people, you need to not be seen."
* * *
"Blice, come in. Please answer. Blice?"
Still mostly asleep, Blice rolls over and looks at his alarm clock. Four in the morning? He pulls the blanket back over his head. Isidore has to learn that everyone has nightmares. Still, he can't be mad.
"I'm scared, Blice. I don't know what to do."
"Just go back to bed, Niko. It's okay." Blice mumbles as he begins to drift back to sleep. "Did you have that bad dream again? I already told you that no one's gonna hurt you while your buddy Blice is here. You can sleep with me if you're too scared." Then he stops and thinks. Wait. "Isidore?" He jumps out of bed and fetches his watch from the dresser. After he puts it back on and the pain subsides, he quickly answers the call. "This is Blice. Niko? Are you there?"
"Blice . . . I think I'm dying." Isidore says. His voice is weak and airy.
"No no no. Tell me what's going on. Talk to me."
"I'm in the dark and there are cables connected to me and back to another computer. I can't move. I don't feel good and I'm dizzy."
"Is anyone there with you?" Blice asks as he puts pants on.
"No. I'm alone. Don't let them hurt me."
"Stay calm and listen to my voice, okay? No one's going to hurt you. I'm here." Blice goes into his office and pulls up Isidore's vital signs. That's not good. "Isidore, keep talking to me and don't go to sleep. Your blood pressure is dangerously low. I don't know what is going on, but I need you to stay awake. I want you to talk to me. Tell me what happened."
"Inquisitor Dark." Isidore says.
"Inquisitor Dark? Who is he? Do you recognize his face? Search through your files and see if he matches any of the profiles of the inquisitors you know."
"I can't. He blocked it."
"Blocked it?" Blice asks. "Use your manual override command."
"I tried. Nothing happened."
"Damn it. You said you are hooked up to another computer?"
No answer.
"Niko? Niko! Wake up."
"What?" Isidore asks sleepily.
"Are you connected to another computer?"
"Yes."
"Can you tell what's going on with that? Is there a monitor or something? Do you see any code?" Blice asks.
"It's all numbers. I can't read it. It looks like my personal code."
"The one I wrote for you?"
"Yes."
"Can you tell what part it is?" Blice asks.
"No."
"I hope he's not trying to reprogram you. Just stay calm. Can you look through any of your files? Anything at all? We need to make sure nothing has been changed. I am a terrible programmer and I didn't save a back up. Once it's changed, I don't know if I'll be able to get it back to the way it was. We'll start with basics. What's your name?"
"Isidore Nikolai Williams."
"Good. Where are you?"
"I don't know." Isidore says.
"What's the last thing you remember?"
Isidore sounds panicked. "He's back. Blice, help me."
"Who's back? Who is it? Niko, talk to me."
Isidore screams as someone laughs then the connection dies.
Blice is left clutching the watch tightly to his lips and more afraid than he was earlier. He runs back
to his bedroom and dresses. One way or another, he is going to save his friend. To hell with the government and their policies. He'll hijack a transport if he has to. His friend is in trouble and nothing will keep him from doing all he can to help. No one stands between Blice and his Niko. Isidore's vital signs stop again.
Just as he is tying the laces on his boots, the doorbell rings. Who is that at five in the morning? He runs his fingers through his tousled hair and opens the door. "Ms. Lifestone, what are you doing here?"
Clara pushes past him. "Make some coffee and meet me in your office. I have a computer to save."
Blice watches her as she hurries off down the hall to his office, her tight black pencil skirt, her black hair falling out of the bun on her head, and her high heels clicking on the floor. She is incredible. He should have told her how he felt when he had the chance years ago when they were working together in Styx. Not that he could have really done anything about it. He was technically still married to Leena at that point. Well, there's no time for that right now. He goes into his office and turns on the coffee maker in the corner.
"I need your pass code."
"Which one?"
"The primary administrator code."
Blice stops measuring out the coffee and closes his eyes. "Leena."
"Thanks. What happened to your face?"
"I was interrogated by the police chief. Apparently they believe that I sabotaged this mission."
"Interesting." Clara says.
"What are you doing?"
"Unlike you, I transferred a copy of Isidore's code and I made a back up of every program and file he had when he was at my house."
Blice puts the coffee away and fetches two cups. "You're a saint, Clara."
"Just doing my job, sir." Clara says. "I woke up just about an hour ago and came here right away. I had the strangest dream and then I had this epiphany. I remembered I had something that might be able to restart him if he has shut down. The external override command for his battery backup."
"You're amazing." Blice says.
"I'm an inquisitor. I was trained to be amazing."
The coffee percolating is the only sound in the room besides Clara's typing. Blice has to know the answer to something that has been bothering him lately. "So . . . you love him, don't you?"
Paradise of Lead Trilogy Page 35