In Case Of Emergency Break Fourth Wall (The Messenger Archive Book 3)
Page 8
[Sianor: Well, I don't have as many good job-jokes as you do.]
[Ashroe: Actually I find it hilarious. I'm imagining the Black Gerbil of Death.]
[Sianor: Sniffling in and putting his tiny paw on you to herald you off to the netherworld.]
[Ashroe: Ahahah. My death-spirit-animal... I wonder what it would be?]
[Sianor: Probably another version of you. You'd jump up at yourself and go SURPRISE.]
[Ashroe: Okay, I just spit out my coke.]
[Sianor: Hehe.]
[Ashroe: I have a confession.]
[Ashroe: You are not allowed to break up with me.]
[Ashroe: I was five.]
[Sianor: Wait... what?]
[Ashroe: I was five, okay? And... weird. And I called my pet... uh.]
[Sianor: Oh god.]
[Ashroe: It was a rabbit.]
[Sianor: I don't even want to know.]
[Ashroe: I called it... Twiglet.]
[Sianor: Wait, what?]
[Ashroe: Twiglet.]
[Sianor: Like Piglet?]
[Ashroe: Like the snack.]
[Sianor: You have a snack called Twiglet?]
[Ashroe: See.]
[Sianor: OMG.]
[Ashroe: Please don't leave me.]
[Sianor: I'm not. That's adorable.]
[Ashroe: Dad got mad because he'd have to yell 'Here, Twiglet' in the back garden when she escaped. Oh yeah, she was female.]
[Sianor: I do love you.]
[Ashroe: I love you too.]
***
Chapter Nine – Mission: Execution
[Sianor: This is when you spring that hidden plot on me.]
[Ashroe: It isn't hidden. It's just—]
[Sianor: You didn't put it in the notes document.]
[Ashroe: Nope.]
[Sianor: Okay. So...]
[Ashroe: First, bonding.]
[Sianor: If this is like those freaking boxes...]
***
Loap was less of a physical-contact person than the others. Roq didn't usually go in for big, effusive touching scenes. It wasn't their preferred method of greeting. Thankfully, most of Messenger's crew accepted that, modulating their touches to simple brushes of fingers or occasionally the squeeze of a hand on an upper arm or shoulder.
Still, in a way it hurt to watch. The minute the doors opened Saidhe barrelled down them at full speed until she and Biann were wrapped together in a tangle of pale limbs and jangling, knotting bow-strings. The twins had always been very affectionate (although Saidhe was by far the more reserved), and he wished he had someone whose first reaction on seeing him saved would be to grab hold of him.
Saidhe then let go of Biann, only to grab Kre next. Which was unusual. She wrapped arms around her, and Kre dropped her chin on top of her head, tail curling around her.
The younger sister came over, then. She stood between the Captain and Loap and took a hand of each in her own, swinging them back and forth. "It's good to see you guys again. We were super worried."
"Yeah, well, if my crew would sit still the extra half an hour each time for me to rescue them..." Vadim complained.
"Didn't know as you were coming," she chided. "And I don't think Saidhe and Loap had much of a choice."
"No," the Navigator agreed. He ran one claw over the back of her hand, showing her gratitude for the contact. "If you had come to rescue us sooner, however..."
"I was doing my damndest!"
Biann let go of their hands, then, and went to wrap her arms around the Judge's shoulders, then Ithon's. "We're all together again. I see you brought Messenger back."
"We could hardly leave our favourite AI in a tiny vessel, Biann," the Judge said.
"No, it wasn't really built for that," Avery said.
"You are not allowed to hold a grudge about the hopper, Ith," Biann told him, scoldingly. "Now... c'mon. Eru wants to meet this pretender at the same time as Kre. You got the transport sorted?"
Loap nodded. They'd sedated him for now, not wanting to take any risks. He'd be woken up once he was in Sianar custody proper. Messenger wasn't tricked out to be a prison ship.
***
Saidhe didn't like Sianar cells, she'd decided. Admittedly these ones were less dingy and dark, but it still reminded her of her time in one. She rubbed at her wrists self-consciously, hugging the back of the room. Biann perched on the high bench with her, watching the Humans and Sianar examine their captive. Roq stood to the side of the bench, his expression unreadable.
"So, do you recognise him?" the Judge asked.
Kre and Eru exchanged looks, and clearly came to some unspoken agreement.
"He is indeed our kin, but he is not our brother. I strongly suspect he is instead our cousin on our father's side. His scent is unmistakeably correct, but not... Cil," Kre said. "His mane is the right colour, but the mark across his face... I suspect it's been scarred into place. Cil was born with the colouration."
"Now we must wonder if he believes the fiction," Eru mused. "If he thinks he is our brother, or if he knows he's deceiving the world."
Ithon checked his wristwatch, then looked up. "He will come round soon. I administered the antidote about... fifteen minutes ago? He'll be groggy for the first few minutes, so he'll be more amenable. But he'd also still be drugged, so take whatever he says critically. It's not a truth serum, so much as... a temporary lability."
"You sure you want us to interrogate him?" Vadim asked.
"Yes, please. I would prefer he does not know where he is being held, or by whom. You were there at his capture. We can make it clear to him his position later down the line," Eru said. "Plus... I may not be wholly... impartial. That monster claimed to be my dead brother."
"I'd suggest everyone not involved in the interrogation leave the room now," the Judge said. "You will be able to observe from the video screens outside."
Saidhe was all too happy to leave, arm linked through Biann's. She was – on a rational level – aware that interrogations had to happen. It was just something she'd rather not watch.
***
"You sure you want to – oh. It wasn't you last time," Kip said, shooting an apologetic look at the Judge.
"Do I even want to know?"
"Probably not," he replied. It would be strange for him, though. He'd not worked over a subject since the Banker with Simeon's face had slipped into his crew. He still wasn't happy about that, even if the Bankers had kept their face-mimicking pretty much non-extant around him since their deal got signed. It just... it made you second-guess everything. And everyone. All the time.
"Which Cop are you today?" Ithon asked, re-arranging the medical tray to the side of the bed.
Vadim was almost certain it was all for show. Most of interrogation was thanks to the implication, the things unsaid. He'd put the trolley with tray where it could only really be glimpsed out of peripheral vision. 'Cil' was strapped down to the bed with broad leather loops and Kre had assured them that they would hold him in place.
"I was going to play it by ear. Did you have a preference?" he asked.
"I could be the Good one," the Judge said. "Then you can both be as wicked as you like."
That caught his attention. Kip whirled, eyeing Peters up and down. "I can get behind you being Good. Alright." He cracked his knuckles noisily (ignoring the glare he got) and walked over to the restrained Sianar. He poked a finger into his chest, but there wasn't a discernable reaction. Again. Again.
"He should come around any – there we go..." Ithon sounded relieved.
Vadim startled back at the sudden flare of sharp, white teeth. They were nowhere near his wrist, but he wasn't taking any chances. He'd stayed alive this long by being wary, so no reason to stop now.
"Wh– let me go!"
"Now, now. You tried to start intergalactic war, and you want to be let go?" Ithon's voice could be chillingly harsh when he wanted it to be. Vadim wasn't sure if he was supposed to react to it the way he was.
"I'm the rightful Za!"
"If you
're the rightful Za, why is there currently one in charge? 'Cause last time I looked... Eru-Tho-Gameth was in charge around here." Vadim made a point of poking at the fur around his shoulders. "Have to say, this is pretty impressive, but you do know you're impersonating a dead dude, right?"
"I am Cil-Tho—"
Ithon actually grabbed his muzzle and slammed it shut. It was a risky move, but Gunner had always been good at pulling tricks no one should. "No. Cil is dead." The Enforcer tilted the Sianar's head forcefully to one side, his other fingers pushing the white streak of fur to one side to look for the scarification they suspected was there. "Do you actually believe you're him? Did someone climb up inside your skull?"
Just before Cil's jaws forced Ithon's fingers away with a roar of parted lips he let go and stepped back.
"We should shave back the muff," Vadim suggested. "See if it's been dyed, or if he really is a distant relative. I know it won't grow back the same, but if it's fake it won't really matter anyway..."
Cil's eyes widened at that, and fear was there in the whites around his irises. "No."
"No?"
"No. Don't. Do. Not."
Vadim looked over to Ithon, cocking his head to one side. Partially it was in a is he really cracking over something as simple as a shaving? But also it was for effect. You had to dick around with them, after all.
Avery seemed just as surprised, if his eyebrows said anything. He did, however, turn to pick up some heavy-duty medical scissors. The kind that would cut through everything but a Roq's hide, the kind that were brought out in emergencies for trauma surgery. They were pretty unwieldy things, not exactly ideal for shaving a Sianar, but Vadim didn't really intend on following through on that.
"You want to tell us who put you up to this, son?" The Judge stepped into visible range now. He'd been close enough that Cil could smell him, could maybe even hear him breathing, but he'd kept himself the invisible third party until now. "Because it's pretty clear to me that you're not the mastermind behind this plan."
"I am C—"
Avery had the scissors up and under his throat. He opened them with a loud schnick, letting the two blades open around a tuft of his mane. They slowly pressed closer and closer shut, only to snap a lock of fur when there was no response. He let the little tuft fall onto the man's chest, when—
"Baudeline," Cil whispered. "It was Baudeline. I only know the name. I don't know anyth—"
Cil made a horrible choking noise as Ithon was suddenly on top of him. It came from seemingly nowhere, and the blond man straddled the Sianar's hips. The scissors pushed edge-first against his throat, his other hand gripping low down under Cil's jaw. Kip could see his fingertips go white from the pressure he was applying, hard enough to cause some serious pain.
"What did you say?"
"I said Baudeline! He – he told me I could be Za! Told me the two children weren't strong enough! Told me I could lead my people to supremacy again! I—aggnnnff—"
"Ithon. Ithon. ITHON!"
The scissors pushed in so hard that Vadim could see blood suddenly rushing over the shiny, sterile blades. He hadn't punctured anything vital yet, but if he kept working those scissors in so close to what passed for his carotid artery, Cil would have more to worry about than a slightly lopsided mane.
"How did he contact you? What did he pay you? What did he demand? How do you communicate? H— Kip, get off me!"
Vadim wasn't going to let him murder their only witness, and he looped his arms up and under Avery's. Hands knotting over the front of his chest, he pulled the taller man sideways and off the Sianar. There was a clatter of limbs and cursing and a sudden sting of scissors-to-upper-arm that would need seeing to sooner rather than later, but then he had Ithon free. He shoved him bodily away from Cil, surprised when Avery turned back to face him. Face beyond angry, Ithon looked two breaths away from charging him with some kind of Sianar blood-rage.
"Ith, please!"
The Judge stepped between them both – a hand raised to chest-height on either side – and shook his head. "Enough."
"I want to know—"
"I said enough," the Judge repeated to Ithon. "Gentlemen. If you'd give me the room. I believe that our friend here would happily tell me everything I need to know. Correct?"
Cil seemed to nod if the rustling sound was anything to go by, but Kip couldn't take his eyes off his partner's. Ithon's face was pale – drained of all blood – nostrils flared and pupils blown. It was terrifying seeing him lose his composure so much, it just... wasn't Ith. He walked closer, hands out placatingly. "Gunner... come on, buddy."
Ithon glowered at him, threw the scissors down and stormed out.
"Go," the Judge said.
***
[Sianor: I knew it. Why didn't I trust you?]
[Ashroe: I lulled you into a false sense of completion.]
[Sianor: And even though I should have predicted it, I didn't. How?]
[Ashroe: You were blinded by the big action sequence.]
[Sianor: Guh. Also, I have a serious interrogation kink now.]
[Ashroe: 'Now'? You mean it didn't come pre-programmed?]
[Sianor: Maybe... latent ;) ]
***
Chapter Ten – Mission: Inflection
"You want to tell me what the hell that was about?"
Vadim struggled to keep up with him. Ithon had long legs and he was using them to the fullest extent. He pushed the door hard, which meant it swung back right before Kip's face and he had to quickly halt his forward motion to keep his nose and teeth intact.
"No, I don't."
"Well, obviously, but you're still going to tell me," he insisted, jogging to keep up. It was that weird pace that wasn't really running, walking, jogging or... anything. And you either looked ludicrous trying to bounce along fast enough or you had to keep speeding up and slowing down. He was sure the bastard was doing it on purpose.
Ithon didn't even reply. And Ithon always replied. To everything. He probably had a snide remark ready the moment he slipped out of his mother's womb. Kip put a hand on his shoulder, knowing it would be shucked off before it happened.
"Come on, Ith."
The other man stilled, then, but didn't turn. They were somewhere in the palace, somewhere a little further away from prying eyes and ears, but other than that he had no idea where. Everyone else had thankfully had the intelligence not to follow them. Not yet, anyway. He bristled like an irate hedgehog, radiating waves of do not touch me. Vadim relented, coming almost alongside. He could see Ithon's hands were clenched into fists, his chest moving with rough breaths.
"You gonna tell me who – or what – this Baudeline person is? Or what they did to you?"
"No."
"...even if it means saving the universe again? C'mon. You like doing that."
"I don't. I just like the universe continuing. I'd be happy to leave the actual saving of it to other people, it just so happens that currently it seems to need my assistance more than it usually does."
Funny, Vadim had assumed Ithon did enjoy it. On some level, anyway. Like he did, even though he vehemently (and regularly) denied it. It was... well. It kept you from being bored. Meant the continuation of life pretty much as you liked it. He was sure other people regularly saved it too, just that... so did they.
And with saving-the-universe to bond over, they'd gotten close again. Close like they'd been back in his Ur days. He knew he'd missed him, which was part of why he'd been so ornery around him whenever they bumped heads. In fact, the way he'd just slipped right back into his life when they had something not-Ur to do together had just reinforced his belief that if he could just get Ithon to stop working for them then everything would be great.
Okay. Maybe for a while. If they actually ended up like an old married couple then Ith might well drive him around the bend. But you could dream, right?
"Will you tell me what I need to know, then? But not... everything?"
Avery thought about that for a moment, then nodded.
"Yes." His words were still curt and short, and the tension didn't seem to be abating too much.
"Right. And... you can say the more stuff later. If you want to."
Another nod. It would have to do.
"Baudeline is... I met him shortly after you left the Ur. He was a Judge. He'd been fast-tracked up. You didn't meet him, not that I know of. He'd been stationed out in the Sol-system for the longest time. I met him when I moved back there."
"You moved back to Sol?"
"I wanted... a change of stomping grounds, I guess. And I hadn't been back since I graduated."
"Okay." Made sense. Kip had been happy to move away and stay away, but maybe that was why Ithon had gone back? Less chance of them... well. Meeting accidentally, he guessed. "And he was a good Judge? Bad Judge?"
"Good. Or... well. He seemed good. Fair. Good at listening. Very even-headed." Avery turned, eyes down, tongue out over his lips. "Bad. Very, very bad."