The Third Eye Initiative

by J. J. Newman

  “Compassion? Listen to me, Elias. I have never killed anyone who didn’t deserve it. Not once. Compassion is a joke in this city. Have you seen this place? It eats the compassionate alive, and either kills them or spits them out as a causality of corruption.”

  “Remember when you killed your fellow agent in the jail cell? When you were a novice? What did you feel then?” Elias asked.

  “I don’t know. I wished it hadn’t come to that. But he did it to himself. Hell, I didn’t even kill him. He drank the shit voluntarily. It upset me in that I felt like we were all so expendable.”

  “So the only thing you felt was concern for yourself?” Elias seemed more worried than angry.

  “What do you want me to say? I’ve lived on the streets. All I know is survival. You know what happens to heroes in the street? They become heroes in the gutter. The only one who will make damn sure I stay alive is myself. If somebody gets in the way of that goal, then to hell with him. Compassion? It’s useless. We have to do bad things sometimes. Why let it get to me? You may think it makes me a monster. I say it’s made me one of the best damn agents we have.”

  “Are you just trying to seem like a tough guy? Or are you being honest?” Elias asked.

  “When have I ever tried to be a tough guy? Like I said, Elias. I do what I have to do. Regrets are a waste of time.” Tsaeris was feeling a bit angry about the whole thing. They trained him to be a killer, to be ruthless when needed, and then he got in trouble for killing ruthlessly. It was silly.

  “Forget regret, then. When you were cutting that man to pieces, did you have no inclination to just end it? To show him mercy?”

  “No,” Tsaeris replied. “Would he have shown me and Aedrus mercy? I doubt it.”

  “Would he have cut you into pieces while you were still alive? I doubt it,” Elias said sharply.

  “You know what I find irritating?” Tsaeris said. “You’ve tortured your fair share of people. Do you think it made you less a monster because it bothered you? Because you felt compassion? Do you think the people you were torturing felt that you were an okay guy since you felt bad about it? We’re both monsters of necessity, Elias. The only difference between us is that you need to feel bad to sleep at night, and I sleep just fine regardless.”

  Elias stayed silent for a time, his face reflective. When he wasn’t in a rage, Elias tended to think matters through and try to see it from all sides. Tsaeris respected that about him.

  “You’re not wrong about that,” Elias said softly. “I may not take it to the extremes you did last night, but I can’t promise I wouldn’t have if I had to. But you are wrong when you say compassion is useless, Tsaeris. It keeps us in check when we get out of hand. It makes us better than the people we kill, if only a little. It keeps our knives piercing the right people, and gives us pause when there is doubt.”

  “I use calculation for that, Elias. It serves me just as well,” Tsaeris replied.

  “This is my fault, in a sense. When you were my novice, I never taught you these things. I didn’t think I’d have to. I didn’t realize what you were.”

  “What am I, Elias?” Tsaeris asked,

  “I think, at least in part, you’re morally insane, as Tyrier would call it. A person incapable of feeling compassion or anything for other people.” Elias said.

  “That’s bullshit. I know what a morally insane means, Elias. That’s not me. I may not feel bad for my actions, but I do care about some people. I cared about Cyra. I care for my friends. I don’t think you’re being fair.”

  “Perhaps. But you definitely have some of the traits, Tsaeris. I don’t know where it comes from. Probably from the life you’ve lead. Either way, it’s my failure. I’ll do what I can to make it right.”

  “How?” Tsaeris asked.

  “I have no idea, at the moment,” Elias said sincerely.

  “So, when you said I’m done?”

  “I don’t know. A part of me feels like it’s a danger to have you operating. Another part of me fears taking you off the streets, as you are a good agent, and one of three people who know about the problem we’re having. We’ll probably need you. But, Tsaeris. You need to keep yourself in check. Do you understand?” Elias asked

  “As far as I’m concerned, I’ve always been in check. But yeah, I understand.” Tsaeris was relieved. He defined himself by his role as a Third Eye Initiative Agent. Had he been forced out of his job, he wasn’t sure he could take it.

  “Alright, since we’re alone. I can tell you this much right now. The Elites are not doing this under Gravelock’s orders. They have defected, it seems. We don’t know who’s calling their shots now, so be very careful. I tried to get a list of names, but I was denied. So we have no idea who they are.”

  “Why couldn’t you get names? You’d think that...he...would want this stopped,” Tsaeris asked, his tone incredulous. Tsaeris struggled with the concept of Gravelock, still unconvinced that the man even existed.

  “I have no idea, and I’m not even going to bother speculating. It’s no use. I have to go now, Tsaeris. Just remember what we talked about,” Elias said.

  “Where’s Aedrus, anyway? I haven’t seen him down here,” Tsaeris asked.

  “He’s staying in our house tonight. Tyrier is there as well,” Elias replied.

  “Good,” Tsaeris said. The men exchanged goodbyes, and Elias was gone. Tsaeris sat alone at his table for some time, going over the conversation he had had with Elias in his head, over and over again.

  Tsaeris looked up as Raina appeared again, reclaiming her seat across from him.

  “What was that about?” Raina asked,

  “He needed my secret recipe for shepherd’s pie,” Tsaeris replied.

  “Fine, don’t tell me,” Raina said, brushing her brown hair back behind her ears with her hand.

  “I don’t think I will. Still up for those drinks?” Tsaeris asked, smiling.

  They drank late into the evening. The ale and whiskey fogged Tsaeris’ mind, and made him forget his troubles. The two of them played dice and talked while they drank, neither really keeping score of who owed who how much coin. He noticed Raina giving him a shy look from time to time. He knew that look, and figured it must be the drink. He didn’t mind, as he was drunk himself. And Raina was very pretty. How had he not noticed this before?

  Tsaeris and Raina stumbled drunkenly into his bedroom cell, both tripping over the trunk and falling into the bed, while erupting into fits of laughter. Tsaeris leaned over the foot of the bed and slammed the cell door shut. He turned to face Raina, who was now smiling at him, and lying on her side propped up by an elbow. He hesitated. Since Cyra, Tsaeris had slept with only whores. With whores it was easy. He was paying, and didn’t really need to put any effort into it. He hoped he still remembered how to make it enjoyable for the woman as well.

  He crawled across the bed, and lay propped on his side, facing Raina. She leaned forward and gave him a small kiss. She back away and they stared at each other again, Raina giving a small chuckle to help disarm her nervousness. Tsaeris smiled at her, and this time it was he who leaned in.

  They kissed for a long time, and Tsaeris stroked the inside of her still clothed thigh with his hand. When his hand slid between her legs, she let out a small moan of pleasure against his lips. She reached out and began unbuckling his belt.

  They sat up as Tsaeris removed his pants and boots and threw them onto the floor in front of the bed. He put his arms around her and began kissing her neck tenderly. She gasped and leaned her head to the side. He bit her playfully, moved away from her neck and stared into her eyes.

  He reached out and began undoing the buttons of her dark brown leather vest. His hands worked fast, his anticipation fueling his desire. Two buttons undone, then three. Finally the vest was open, and she removed in. She reached in to kiss him, but Tsaeris held her back, staring at her chest in horror.

  “What is it?” Raina asked, nervously. “What’s wrong?”

  Tsaeris did not reply,
and just continued to stare. Around her neck was a long leather cord. And sitting on the end of the cord, against her breast, was a polished brass ring.

  Chapter Thirty Seven

  Falling Into Place

  The room was almost as dark as the night outside. A single candle lay upon the desk, illuminating a map of Market district. The figure, cloaked in the deepest black, stared down at the human shaped pawns placed at several spots on the map, some black, others blue. Another smaller map lay next to it. This map showed the catacombs under Market, with a large circle representing the Third Eye Initiative safe house.

  He smiled to himself softly as he considered the placement of his pawns. Tonight. In the next few hours, everything would change. His master stroke was set, and he had but to wait for the pieces to fall into place. He moved his hand over the two pawns sitting in the safe house. He lifted the black pawn, and used to it knock over the blue. It fell on its side with an audible thud. He was confident that that move would have played itself out by now.

  He looked over at the map of Market, and moved the two black pawns into position beside the three blue pawns. It was time to wait. Soon, those pawns would be removed, and the game could begin in earnest. He smiled at the sound of thunder. A storm. How wonderfully dramatic.

  ***

  Aedrus was hungry. He sat at the table, crumbs of bread and the grease from roasted chicken was all that was left of his meal. He looked to Elias with a hopeful look. The one he got in return did not fill him with hope.

  “Sorry, boy. Would take an army of cooks to make enough to fill you and Tyrier both,” Elias said. Aedrus sighed, and Tyrier, who sat across from him, grunted.

  “Can I at least get some ale?” Aedrus asked.

  Elias gave him a hard stare.

  “Get it yourself,” Elias said, harshly.

  “Fine. Where is it?”

  Elias pointed to a cask of ale, which sat only two feet to Aedrus’ right. Aedrus smiled gulped down the last of his water and walked over to the cask and filled his mug with the amber brew. He looked at Tyrier, and raised a questioning eyebrow. Tyrier nodded. Aedrus filled his mug as well, and then sat back down at the table.

  Elias stared at Aedrus again.

  “What?” Aedrus asked.

  “No, I’m fine. Not thirsty, but thanks for offering,” Elias said dryly.

  “I think you just like being mad,” Aedrus accused.

  Elias rolled his eyes, and shot a quick glare at Tyrier, who was chuckling. Elias sat down at the table, next to his brother.

  “Why do I have to stay here, Elias?” Aedrus asked.

  “Because it’s late and I don’t feel like escorting you back to the safe house.” Elias replied.

  “I don’t need an escort.” Aedrus replied indignantly.

  “What are you, an idiot?” Tyrier bellowed.

  “I’m aware of the dead novices, Tyrier. I just don’t think I’ll end up as one of them.” Aedrus countered.

  “Yeah?” Tyrier began, scratching at his beard. “Why’s that?”

  “I’m just too good,” Aedrus said, a sly smile on his face.

  “Too good?” Tyrier yelled out, laughing. “Boy, you live in a neat and tidy little fantasy land, don’t you? Word to the wise. Nobody is too good to die. Now stop being such and ingrate, and just shut up and deal with it. It’s one bloody night.”

  “Well, where am I going to sleep?” Aedrus asked. “Tsaeris’ room?”

  “Uh,” Elias began, “no. I don’t think so. His room is death trap. If he ever gets himself killed, I’ll probably just sell the bloody house rather than risk going down there to clean it out. You’ll sleep in my bed tonight.”

  Aedrus was young, so naturally that only made him want to sleep down there ever more. He wasn’t going to argue about it, however. He was fairly certain that arguing with Elias was always a dead end.

  Something was going on, of that he was sure. The way that Elias and Doctor Giant kept exchanging glances, and the nervous tension in almost everything they said, was more than enough to tell him that something wasn’t quite right.

  “What happened with that guy the other night? The one who followed me and Tsaeris?” Aedrus asked.

  “He’s dead,” Elias replied. “Was just some mugger.”

  “A mugger? Then why did Tsaeris send for you two?” Aedrus asked.

  “He wanted to find out if the guy was rogue, or a member of a Thief guild crossing a line.”

  “Uh huh,” Aedrus replied, knowing it was a lie and accepting it was all he would get. He cursed silently. He was so bored. These two were not much for conversation.

  Aedrus took a long pull of his ale, and decided it was probably time to get some sleep. It was late, and there really wasn’t anything to do.

  He excused himself, and Elias showed him where the bed room was. He opened the door and walked inside, candle in hand. He looked around the room. There was only a small desk, and a bed. Even Elias’ bedroom was boring.

  Aedrus lay down in the bed without undressing, removing only his short sword and placing it on the floor leaning upright against the bed, and was surprised at how tired he really was. He closed his eyes and fell asleep almost immediately.

  He wasn’t sure how long he had slept when his eyes suddenly opened. It couldn’t have been more than an hour or so, since the candle that he had placed on the desk had only burned a small fraction of its length. He looked around the room, wondering what had awakened him. Maybe a sound from outside. His stomach felt like it was in knots. Something was wrong. A flash of lightning followed by a boom of thunder sounded outside his window. He decided it was probably the storm that had awakened him. For some reason, he didn’t quite believe it.

  He sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed, and rubbed his eyes. He took a moment to shake off the last remnants of sleep, and then rose to his feet. He reached his hand to his side and felt the reassuring hilt of his short sword still leaning against the bed. He had almost hoped that it had been his sword falling to the floor that had awakened him. He took a moment to strap the scabbard to his belt, the moved to the door of the room.

  He pushed the door open only a crack and peeked out. It was dark. Tyrier and Elias must have extinguished the candles and gone to sleep. Aedrus stepped out into the hall on quiet feet, careful not to wake his hosts. He had almost reached the living room when he felt his foot bump up against something in the darkness. Aedrus swallowed hard, and slowly crouched to his knees. He reached out. It was Doctor Giant. Dead? He shook the big man, but there was no response. Aedrus’ eyes filled with tears, and he rubbed them away. He stepped over the body of his friend and moved into the living room.

  It only took him a moment to locate Elias, who lay on the floor near the table. It was hard to see in the darkness, but it didn’t look like the two men had put up much of a struggle. He found that very hard to believe.

  A small sound escaped the kitchen. It was very slight, the shifting of a boot, or the creak of a leather belt. Without his training he never would have picked it up, but for a member of the Third Eye Initiative, the sound might as well have been a trumpet blaring.

  His sense of sadness and loss was replaced by rage, red hot and thirsty for blood. Whoever had done this was in that kitchen. He removed his short sword from its scabbard and he could feel that it too was hungry for the blood of this murderer.

  His weight was balanced on the balls of his feet, and he made no sound as he crossed the living room to the kitchen door. He pressed his ear against the wood, listening for a sound, any sound. There was nothing. Whoever was behind that door must have heard him leave his room, and was waiting for him to open that door. An ambush.

  Ambush this, he thought, and he kicked open the door, and leaped back. Nothing. No attacker came from within. A flame burned in the cooking hearth, a kettle hanging over the fire. Somebody had been about to make tea or coffee.

  Aedrus approached the door again, his senses on high alert for any sound, any sign of move
ment. He knew that somebody had been in that kitchen moments ago. They must still be inside. He crossed the door frame with one foot, his left hand pressed slightly against the door. If somebody moved on the other side, it would disturb the door and he would feel it. Feeling secure for the moment on his left side, he kept his eyes fixed to the right. The small flame of the hearth cast dancing shadows along the walls, but there didn’t appear to be anyone there. They must be hiding behind the open door, he decided.

  Aedrus took a deep steadying breath, pulled back his left hand, and then hit the door hard, hoping to stun whoever was behind it. The door slammed into the wall, meeting no resistance.

  He stood there, stunned. Where had the murderer gone? This was impossible. He was still struggling with his bafflement when he felt the legs wrap around his neck from above. The rafters! How had he not checked above him?

  Aedrus tried to slash at the legs with his sword, but quickly realized that he was more likely to cut his own throat than to injure his attacker. He dropped his sword to the ground, and reached up to grab the legs. Using all of his strength, he threw himself face first into the floor. The sudden shift of weight pulled his attacker down with him, and the man rolled into the wall.

  Aedrus jumped to his feet, grabbing up his sword. He held it out before him, as his attacker had been equally quick to rise.

  “What are you going to do with that, child?” The man asked in a slightly high pitched, mocking voice.

  “Oh, I don’t know. Stab you, maybe?” Aedrus replied, and then leaped forward thrusting his sword at the hooded man’s chest. The man’s own sword seemed to leap into his hand, and he knocked Aedrus’ sword aside, then slapped Aedrus on his hand with the flat of his blade. Aedrus’ sword flew from his grip.

  Aedrus cursed, and began backing away. The flame of the hearth was behind Aedrus now, and it cast his attacker in deep shadows, making it hard for Aedrus to track his movements. It didn’t help that the man was quickly side stepping left then right, trying to throw Aedrus off.