I4976U
Still nothing about it made any sense. It was probably related to the rest of the text somehow. Maybe even a sort of coded cipher of its own, but Hank couldn’t find any way to make it fit. He stared at the watermarks for a long time, slowly stepping away from the paper in case something would jump out at him. He tried looking away and letting his subconscious grab at it like it had the watermark, but nothing popped out.
Several hours later, after counting all of the overall characters outside of the red circles and finding the 4,976th one in sequence—the letter “I”—Hank stared at it for a long moment, a smile creeping on his lips. He highlighted it with the red marker. It probably wasn’t a coincidence that the first letter in the watermark corresponded with the number after it. But what did it mean?
Hank paced around the desk, trying to make sense out of what he’d discovered. Perhaps there was a letter “U” 4,976 characters later? And even if that were true, it still didn’t make any useful sense. He took a deep breath and started counting after the red-marked “I” until he came to the end of the document and deflated with the realization that there weren’t another 4,976 characters left after it.
“Fuck.” Hank’s voice bounced off the gray brick walls within the quiet office room. Clenching his fist, Hank walked away from the paper and the table and fought the urge to punch the concrete wall until it was painted with his blood and bone. He wondered if he should hand this over to someone else, but his knee-jerk reaction, the one he knew deep down in his heart Tresney would have agreed with, was that he should trust no one else with this information. Even the most devoted member of the Foederati was still human and could be made to betray Hank just by having blood.
With that in mind, Hank tried to calm himself and concentrate on figuring out the cipher. He turned back to the paper and stared at it, thinking about the letter “U” and searching for it in the mess of text before him. It was there at random, no differently than any other letter. He tried counting down from the left side of the huge block of text and quickly gave up. Nothing was clicking.
Head pounding, Hank was beginning to wonder if it was time to set the damn thing aside for the day. I need to back it up, put it in reverse, take a break—
Something was staring him right in the face, but he couldn’t make it out. Like a word just on the tip of his tongue. He had just said it. Reverse…
Quickly, Hank pulled the paper up to where he could start counting from the very last letter backwards. As he counted right to left and back to the next line up over and over, his breath became heavy with anticipation. Several times he had rushed himself to the point of having to start over, but finally he made it past the four thousand point and marked his place just in case. Then it was only a matter of minutes before he got there. The 4,976th character going in reverse from the end of the document. When he saw that it was the letter “U” staring back up at him, he nearly whooped in the voice of a twelve-year-old girl with the excitement he felt at having figured it out.
But the excitement quickly drained. He had found the “U” but now what? He took out his red marker yet again and highlighted it. Then he traced his finger up until he found the “I” he had marked before. Something odd was coming into focus as he started at the text between the two points. Just like all the rest it was text crammed together with no sense of spacing, punctuation, etc. But this section of text seemed to have something the rest didn’t.
Though they weren’t separated out from each other, Hank could make out words and phrases and scanning down the rest of the section, he could finally see how one sentence led into another without anything but a critical eye for detail to separate them. Wasting no time, he took the marker and carefully traced the block of text so that he could try reading it from the beginning.
ifyourereadingthisthenimustbedeadimsorrywecouldnthavemetinpersonbutsometimesthatsjusthowtheworldworksbynowimsureyourelookingforsomethingtohelpyouunderstandwhyitisthattheemperoristryingtokillyouifyourereadingthisthenhopefullytheinformationiprovidewillgiveyoujustwhatyouneed...
There was more but Hank was having trouble making sense out of it so he found another piece of paper and began transcribing it out from the block of text as he managed to decipher word from word and sentence from sentence adding punctuation where it seemed it should go until he finally had it all down on paper. Hank read it back to himself.
If you’re reading this, then I must be dead. I’m sorry we couldn’t have met in person, but sometimes that’s just how the world works. By now, I’m sure you’re looking for something to help you understand why the Emperor is trying to kill you. If you’re reading this then hopefully the information I provide will give you just what you need.
If I’m seeing things clearly, by now I don’t have to be too specific as to how this information will be made available. What you seek is in an abandoned theme park in New Orleans off of Michoud Boulevard.
Once you’re there, I trust you can find it on your own. And because of which I also advise that you go alone and be careful not to be followed.
Hank finished reading the quick scribbled transcription of Roger Tresney’s message. He made a mental note of the street where the factory was and quickly tore both papers into hundreds of tiny pieces like some kind of human document shredder. He set them aflame in the metal trash can by the desk, watching as they dissolved down to nothing but ashes. Then he sighed and sat down, mentally preparing for the trip he would soon take to New Orleans.
***
The sound of Julie's crying was getting louder every minute. Jonny had tried so hard to tell her that everything would be okay, but she couldn't seem to hear his voice. Through the featureless wall that separated them from each other, he could hear the shaking in her timbre. Her breath caught up in every cry, like something brutal but slow was being inflicted on her. He was to the point of beating his fists against the wall when everything disappeared abruptly. The screeching moan of the door to his room being opened brought Jonny up from his bed, ready to strike whoever was there.
"Cross, it's me, Ragman."
Jonny caught his balance and sat down on the bed with the weight of his nightmare and the fear his late night awakening brought. "What is it, Ragman? It's after three AM."
"The Foederati Commander is gone, sir. None of the soldiers will tell me anything."
Jonny felt a cold chill creep up his back as the Emperor's voice spoke up in his ear, louder and clearer than Ragman.
"Find him. This may be your only chance. He wouldn't have left in the middle of the night if it weren't something important. He may have information that..." The Emperor paused for a long minute. "Get moving. I'll be with you the entire time to guide you."
Jonny nodded to Ragman and rushed to get his clothes on.
"Should I ready the men to come with you, sir?"
"No, they'll suspect something's up. Tell them..."
"Don't worry about an alibi, I’ll make sure they're too busy to notice you're gone," The Emperor said.
"Just don't say anything at all. There will be an attack soon. They'll be too busy. But remember. Keep a convincing alliance while I'm gone."
Ragman nodded and with one last look at Jonny, slipped out of the room.
Sneaking out of the building wasn't that difficult for Jonny with as late as it was. Most of the soldiers were much more concerned about watching for someone coming in than someone leaving. But as he edged neared to the outskirts of town on foot, Jonny's confidence was dissipating more and more with the realization that he had no lead to go on as to where Hank had went. He kept an eye out for any distant tail lights in the night driving away from the city, but none appeared. His hands were clamming up with sweat with the thought that he was one wrong step away from condemning Julie to death for once and for all.
"I'm running out of ideas here. What the hell do I do?"
"Patience, Mr. Cross. I'm looking over satellite data as we speak. In the meantime, instead of blubbering around, why don't you do som
ething useful, like find some means of transportation more conducive to the road than the bottoms of your tennis shoes?"
Jonny held back the urge to scream in response and began shifting his gaze around the small town spread out behind him. Other than an old Ford truck on blocks buried in shoulder-high grass next to a dirt-covered decrepit trailer, there weren’t any vehicles. He decided to backtrack some as he waited for information on just where the hell he was going. The heavy slaps of his shoes hitting the road echoed off of the small dilapidated houses, trailers, and shacks he crossed on his way back into Carlisle. A few blocks further brought a symbol Jonny had never in all his life before equated with hope; the silver hood ornament of a Chrysler reflecting the dull yellow glow of a nearby burglar light.
As he came around the corner to where he could see the car attached to the hood ornament, he sighed, realizing this might be the best thing he could find on such short notice. But how exactly would he be able to get into it, get it running? He didn't have keys and he didn't know how to break into a car. All those years running on foot he had never once tried to steel one before, he didn't need to. All he needed to do was hide. Lay low. Wait till whoever was after him finally went away, and then go back to running some more.
Now the tables were turned completely. It was him doing the chasing. And so far he sucked bad at it. He crept up to the car, looking around, knowing no one in town was likely around. They had all taken to the community building since the Foederati arrived, like lemmings to a cliff. Remembering what the Emperor had said hit him hard then. Knowing many of these people would die, and he was at least partially if not a whole hell of a lot more than partially responsible.
Coming up alongside the driver side door of the black sedan, he tried to pull up on the old silver handle. It was locked. Big surprise.
"Try the other door before you start to panic, Mr. Cross. Remember, I'm monitoring your heartrate... and just about everything else. There's no need to worry."
Jonny nodded to himself as if the voice in his head were his own. A thought that disturbed him even more. Then he went around to the passenger side and tried the handle. The door burst open nearly knocking Jonny over with its immense weight. They don't make 'em like they used to. He slid into the passenger seat and closed the door as quietly as he could. "All right, I'm in. What now?"
"Try the visors, Mr. Cross. Have you seriously never used that brain of yours?" The Emperor's voice was coy, almost back to its normal sly self. But it was still tainted with that silky hint of fear that had crept into it ever since he had learned that Hank was still alive. Why Hank was so important over anyone else leading the Foederati didn't make any sense to Jonny, but it didn't matter much anyway. All that mattered was getting Julie back and safe.
He reached up and tried the driver side visor and down came a cloud of dust and about a dozen CDs. But no key. When he finished coughing and waving away the dust particles crowding the front seat, Jonny, much more slowly this time, pulled down the passenger side visor. A simple key ring with one key on it jingled its way down into the seat and slid down the slanted plastic interior. "Bingo." Jonny slipped his hands down into the crevice where the key had managed to dig into. He came up with the key in hand and put it in the ignition and twisted it. The car roared to life, much louder than he would have expected. He quickly put on his seatbelt and flung the gear into drive.
The Chrysler eased forward as he eased into the gas pedal. He wasn't about to find out the hard way that this jalopy didn't have any brakes. He was just about to ask the Emperor where the hell he was going when the old bastard's voice crept up again with that scratchy glee that made shivers creep up Jonny's spine and what felt like a worm in his belly shimmy with grumpy reluctance at having been woken.
"Go south. Follow the signs to 65 South until I tell you otherwise, you keep yourself on that road. As soon as I know more, I'll give you a clearer picture." The voice paused a moment and then spoke up again. "Look at the gas gauge. I can't see it." Jonny hadn't even bothered to look. He felt so fucking dumb, yet he felt more helpless than anything. It was taking every bit of strength and will he had to keep up this facade. And now he had to hunt down an innocent man. A man who seemed to be a threat to the Emperor himself and could maybe lead the way to bringing back the old republic. But no matter how much he tried to tell himself otherwise, he couldn't sacrifice his little sister for anything. Not even something as important as bringing down the Empire.
The gauge read three quarters of a tank. He'd been lucky. But depending on just how far Hank was going, and how much of a head start he had gotten, Jonny's luck probably wouldn't last forever. He took a deep breath and pushed the gas harder with a new sense of hatred building up inside him. Whatever it takes, he would get Julie back. But maybe... just maybe, he would put a bullet through that monster's head if he got close enough.
Chapter 14
A Bitter Seed of Doubt
Just as quickly as Ishan’s mumbled voice called out in that deep dark place, the whole connection shattered in an explosion sparked by the tension between Simon’s will and whatever power kept Ishan entranced. The dark cavernous features of the Hive resolved all around Simon as he fell limp to the ground, every muscle in his body and his very consciousness worn down nearly completely. He lay there for a long time, unable to move. Images from Belonna’s memories flashed in his mind as if he were dreaming in order to process the extraneous information.
Whatever had actually happened, he’d been in there a long time. The first fluttering of movement was echoing into the Queen’s quarters from the heart of the Hive where thousands of ancestor vampires hung from the cave ceiling, their place of deep slumber in the daylight hours. That meant only one thing. The sun was already down.
Simon listened with inhuman hearing as the ancestors awoke and flew away, at first one by one, then two by two, until finally he was imagining huge waves of black specks like so many ink dots coming together to make a shape that soared overhead and toward the outer chambers of the Hive. Simon had seen that very sight more times than he could count. It was an equally amazing and terrifying sight. Simon’s memory of the ancestor who infected his own blood with the Queen’s gift had never, in hindsight, quite become a fond one. It still held a strong sense of anger in Simon’s mind. And then there was the Queen’s recent admission about Peter…
Simon tried to block that line of thought. He loved her. But something else was growing inside of him now. A bitter seed of doubt. And he feared what would come sprouting out of it when the time for it to open up and let out its first blossoms came.
Hours passed and finally Simon had the strength to sit up. He sat awhile before finally rising to his feet. Regardless of the wall growing between himself and the Queen, he needed to tell her what happened. She would know what to do next and right now he needed that more than anything.
Racing to the Queen’s side, Simon let the memories wash over him. He wanted to be able to give her as much information as he could. When he stepped over to her bed, she lay in a slightly upright sitting position staring into the darkness of the far corner of the room. He hadn’t even heard her movements. “Hello, my sweet one. You have something to tell me?”
For some reason he wasn’t sure of, Simon was thrown off guard.
“I don’t know what happened in its entirety, young one, so go ahead and tell me the whole thing from start to finish.”
Simon took a moment to recollect his thoughts. “It’s Ishan, Mother. I know I shouldn’t have—well, I’m not sure about that actually—but I tried to wake him up and…” Fiery tension was growing in the air as the Queen’s face fought visibly to contain itself. “I got through. I saw some of Bellona’s memories but more importantly, I heard him. He called my name.” There was a long uncomfortable silence after Simon’s last word.
Then, what Simon thought was the impossible happened. Before he could make sense of what he was seeing, the Queen and the cave behind her moved very far away very quickly and Simon
simultaneously felt his heart squeezing and the back of his head slam into the rocky wall behind him.
“YOU DARE TOY WITH SOMETHING SO PRECIOUS?” Her voice was equally screaming in his head as well as audibly filling the room, shaking loose the solid walls that held the place together and sending dust down in quick mini avalanches in every direction.
Simon’s breath was caught in his throat in a way he didn’t think physically possible given his undead state. He gasped in a breath and tried to speak. “We need him, Mother. Please, understand—”
“I WILL UNDERSTAND NOTHING. ISHAN MUST AWAKEN IN HIS OWN TIME OR THE CONSEQUENCES COULD BE PERMANENT. IF I MUST DIE THEN I WILL DIE, BUT ISHAN MUST LIVE. MUST CARRY ON TO LEAD WHILE MY CHILDREN GROW AND LEARN.” The very air seemed to circle around her body as she hovered in a perfect image of female strength and fury. Simon tried to back away, but being against the wall, there was nowhere he could go. Pressure built inside his head and he didn’t need to think twice to figure out who was responsible. If she carried on much longer, Simon’s eternity wouldn’t be quite so eternal anymore. “Mother, who will watch over Ishan if I die? Please…”
But her body only continued to rise in the funneling air and the pressure in Simon’s head, though it weakened some, didn’t go away. “Do you think I haven’t heard the thoughts fumbling around inside you as of late? Do you think I don’t know the hatred for me you fight to hold back within your own heart? I have done nothing but love you from the moment I first saw you in my visions. And yet, you doubt me… you let the beginning of anger blossom into something so vicious within you that you threaten to turn back everything I’ve done to wake you from Joseph’s sick and slithering filthy hands.”
The pressure fell away like a giant vise letting go of Simon’s head.
The Queen had turned her back on him, lying back in her bed, shivering, sweat soaking every inch of her exposed skin. A wave of shock and guilt hit Simon. He wasn’t sure what to feel, but the fear that she had almost killed him just like that was tainted by the shallow self-loathing that came with the realization that she was right. It was the Queen who had made him suffer, but it was also the Queen who had brought him out of the darkness of Joseph Caesar’s vicious, poisonous religion and gifted him with the experience of Ishan’s life and brotherhood.
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