The Bright Image: Clean Book 3

by Tim Niederriter

  My meeting with Council Member Macroy that day was to get his assistance on the refugees who dominated his constituency.

  Rebecca finished with my tie and shook her head.

  “That’s the best I can do. Seriously, Jeth, do you have any easier ties?”

  I shrugged, feigning embarrassment.

  “I didn’t realize it would be utterly impossible.”

  She smiled at me.

  “Lucky for you, I do the impossible.”

  She grasped my tie and tugged me gently into a firm kiss. Her warmth of body and mind permeated me despite the chill of the morning. Her eyes sparkled in the spiraling bluish light veins above us.

  “So,” I said, when we broke apart, “I hate to say this…but I should get going.”

  “Oh, Jeth, you really can be responsible sometimes.”

  “Me?” I shook my head, this time wearing an expression of mocking horror. “But, Rebecca, I would never—”

  “Never?” She looked levelly at me.

  “Never,” I said.

  She stood on tiptoes and pressed her lips to my forehead. For an instant, I closed my eyes and considered missing the meeting. Rebecca stepped back.

  “Go.”

  We took the elevator downstairs from my apartment and I took the Harper Group company car that waited outside toward my meeting with the council member. I hoped, doubtfully, Macroy would be happy to see me.

  The Harper car took me a few miles north of Lotdel Tower and stopped at a large gray structure probably built recently from the prefab look of it, and these days most older buildings would show more wear. The structure stood at the center of a large lot, which made it seem older, given how few people drove in this day and age.

  I felt a bit nervous to be meeting a city council member. In fact, I was pretty sure this meeting with Council Member Macroy would be short. Given my usual form of nervousness, I’d decided I would better off preparing.

  A fellow officer from Harper’s operations and public relations arrived at around the same time, sharply on schedule.

  Lena Essen looked more like an eighteen-year-old kid than the sort of person I expected to see running a major operation for Harper-Balanet. Everything she wore was current, seasonal, and belonged to Source Unknown’s most fashionable brand, an especially obvious set of clothing even for my limited understanding.

  Lena was almost a decade younger than me, but probably had more money than I’d ever see between her family connections and work with Sarah Harper at Balanet. The kind of assistance I needed did not just appear from nowhere. I waved and smiled.

  She greeted me with a smile of her own and said, "I was expecting you’d be late."

  “Why do you say that?” I asked.

  She said, "Sarah doesn’t see you often, and she goes by BrightNet all the time."

  I shrugged. Lena rolled her eyes.

  Some details of my life could not be more complicated, especially when it came to what I could tell Sarah Harper or any member of the Balanet service. If I couldn’t tell Sarah about the way things had unfolded at the military command center last winter, I sure couldn’t tell Lena. I was wrapped up in a lot of things I really did not need them knowing about.

  We went inside.

  I followed Lena across a checked-tile floor with a gait that made me appear on edge. Despite the truth, I sure didn’t need Macroy to see me so obviously worried. I paused for a moment and took a deep breath. Lena glanced back at me.

  "You have got to be kidding me, Mister Gall. You head a big news network company in the city. Don't look so scared. Macroy is just a city council member."

  I shrugged, as seemed to be the custom in this part of town.

  "You know I really don't understand how people can meet someone to ask for help and not be nervous,” I said.

  Lena stifled a smirk but didn't do a good job of it. She threw her hands up as if admitting defeat and snorted, sounding derisive as well as amused.

  “Whatever you say, big man.”

  I didn’t typically like being laughed at, but given Lena’s influential position with Sarah Harper, I thought it better not to call attention to that fact.

  Back in the old days, before the aeon's arrival, I would not be surprised if someone thought of Lena as a spoiled princess. These days, she still certainly was that. However, I had a respect for people who could understand network technology, the way the aeon's had remade it around their ichor, even if one of the people in question happened to be a teenage brat.

  Her public files spoke of a powerful talent as a memeotect catapulting her out of school early. She flew straight into network service. When I looked deeper I found it wasn’t just nepotism. She possessed skills with neural communications and confidence to match.

  She raised her eyebrows at me.

  "You don't look annoyed."

  "Good," I said. “I’m not.”

  She rolled her eyes.

  "I didn't expect you to be so…calm. I mean you're nervous, but it doesn't seem like you're scared."

  "What’s the difference between nervous and scared?" I asked.

  "Don't ask me," said Lena. "My lit and language classes aren't exactly fresh."

  I laughed.

  She frowned at me.

  "Now who's laughing?” she asked.

  "I am," I said. “Don’t worry. I’ll get it under control.”

  "Well okay. But honestly, better laughing than worrying."

  "Hey, you’re right."

  "You may look old, but you're just a kid in your head."

  “Miss Essen, you don't know the half of it."

  Old, I thought, I’m not old. My dad had gone gray in his forties. I couldn’t look that old at just about twenty-nine.

  “I’m beginning to figure it out, Mister Gall.”

  “Call me Jeth.”

  “Sure. Anyway, Macroy should be ready to meet with us in…” She checked the time on the network, eyes growing distant for a second. “Five minutes, Jeth.”

  A pair of voices approached along the hall past the vacant front desk. A man and a woman drew nearer, arguing in hushed but heated voices. My network senses picked up the man, but not the woman, meaning she was an aeon.

  He was short, and on the lean side, though still bigger than my friend Ryan Carter. White hair carefully sleeked back made him look a little older than the rest of his feature indicated. This wasn’t Macroy, but his assistant was probably used to taking network calls for the council member.

  The aeon woman wore long dark hair behind her head in a series of braids, revealing delicate features. She looked similar in skin tone to Rebecca, and I wondered if her heritage went back to the old world’s middle east in whole or in part. The surgical band that crossed her collarbone hid her central wound, and she wore bandages over her otherwise bare hands as well.

  I was surprised to see anyone else here, given the secretive nature of my scheduled meeting with Macroy.

  “Bayaluggia, I assure you, the council member will take your concerns into consideration. He told you that himself and is quite sympathetic to the danger felt among aeons lately, governors or not.”

  “Thank you. I only wish I could trust him more,” she said in an airy voice. “After the Teloite embarrassment, lawlessness grows daily.”

  Her voice reminded me a little of Yashelia, but without the oddly maddened inflections or evil tone. Naturally, she sounded more reasonable because this aeon was not also a rogue star. Macroy’s assistant stopped before me and Lena. Bayaluggia gave us a curt nod, then continued past us on her way out of the building.

  Her footsteps sounded loud for a few strides before quickly diminishing.

  The assistant offered me his hand.

  “Mister Gall, I’m Dale Perth.”

  “Nice to meet you, Dale.”

  We shook hands. He nodded to Lena, and they shook too.

  “Miss Essen.”

  She folded her hands on the strap of her purse before her.

  “Mister
Perth.”

  “This way. Council Member Macroy is ready for you,” he said and turned to lead us back the way he had just come.

  The moment he wasn’t looking at her, Lena rolled her eyes. She sent me a message in text a second later.

  This guy is stuffy as hell. Just be patient. He’s all about protocol, so meeting in an undisclosed place like this is probably driving him nuts.

  Good to know, I sent back.

  Any time. Her teeth flashed in a grin.

  Her mind darted away before I could get a more solid feel for her presence. The impression I gathered from proximity was sharp and polished, similar to Elizabeth’s perhaps, but not as cold or refined.

  I could appreciate this girl. Good thing too, because going into these negotiations over media access to the restricted parts of the refugee district for BrightNet could get tough. Of course, even though I liked her, I had my doubts over Sarah Harper’s organization wanting us to investigate the refugee district.

  Except for Rebecca, no one knew how I worried for my parents. When they arrived, I was determined they would not be trapped in a refugee ghetto. Nobody deserved that, especially after traveling so far.

  The refugees in the district were in worse shape now than ever, thanks to their burgeoning numbers. Every day, it seemed like another train or convoy of battered vehicles would arrive at the city. Every refugee to arrive in a large group was being vetted, unlike when people reached the city alone or in tiny groups that could be downtown or by the sea before anyone even knew they’d arrived.

  The official story behind the terrorist attacks leading up to our showdown with Sudhatho had led to the crackdown. Never mind that it wasn’t true. It was close enough that the people behind those attacks had arrived in the city from the west. The difference was, they had been renegade soldiers, not actual refugees. How much damage could the average person from Fort Wayne or the Green Valley cause?

  Not much, I had decided. I wanted to expose the peaceful nature of the refugees to get them into the city faster. Conditions out there could not be good, given the ramshackle buildings I had seen them adding on to the old remains of the city that still stood near the heights.

  Despite everything, people seemed to be focusing their fears on these poor travelers.

  The issue of aeon’s debating how to approach the possibility of reproduction should have then more on edge, but people seemed intent on their xenophobia. Aeons might not be humans, but for the most part, they were locals.

  We reached a wooden door to an interior office. Dale Perth pulled it open. He motioned Lena and me inside.

  City Council Member Martin Macroy stood behind a folding metal tray table, eschewing the tinny chair a foot behind him. He looked up from a sheet of paper, an old-fashioned hard copy printed from some digital or mental text.

  My impression of him was a middle-aged boxer. I didn’t know a lot of fighters, but people still engaged in martial sports in the city. Martin Macroy was big, still muscular, but doubtless lacked the speed of the young men who stepped into a ring. He nodded to us, smiling with his eyes. I sensed he was not on the dose.

  “Mister Gall, Miss Essen. Welcome to my humble office. You can close the door, Dale. This is a private meeting.”

  “Of course, council member.” Dale stepped out and closed the door behind him.

  Martin motioned to the two folding chairs on our side of the table.

  “I can offer you a seat, such as it is. If my office wasn’t a zoo right now, we would have been better accommodated there.”

  “Protesters?” I asked as Lena and I took the seats.

  “Yes,” said Martin. “Worst I’ve seen since the early years. Not that I remember a whole lot from the beginning.” He winked. “Don’t let me reminisce. It’s not healthy around younger folks like you two.”

  I smiled. Lena nodded, but I guessed she had just resisted rolling her eyes.

  “It’s good to finally meet you.” I extended my hand.

  Martin gave my hand a firm shake, then held it for a moment.

  “Likewise, Mister Gall. And congratulations on the stir your company is making.”

  “Thank you.”

  He released my hand. My fingers ached from his grip, and I shook them out. Let it never be said I pretend to be tough.

  “So, as I understand it you’re looking to report from within my district,” said Martin. “What makes you so eager?”

  “Besides the fact that your district is the source of the biggest news in the city right now? I think it’d be good to get a perspective of what life is like in there.”

  “You may be right,” said Martin. “But isn’t the vote the aeons are having about their reproduction going on just a few days from now? It could change everything.”

  “Your district is full of refugees right now, sir,” I said. “With all due respect, when the aeons vote, we’ll cover it.”

  “Understood.” He frowned, causing the lines on his face to deepen. “What do you think, Miss Essen?”

  “Council member,” said Lena. “I think you need Mister Gall. I’ve heard the rumors of conditions worsening in your district. The right story could get funding for additional facilities, with uses potentially beyond the immediate crisis.” She smiled, eyes partially glazed from simultaneous network access. “The Harper Group is prepared to offer a substantial donation to match any funds we raise additionally.”

  I held my jaw in place and fought the urge to applaud her. She had not only made him an offer, she had done it immediately, confidently, and in detail. Now who looks like window-dressing, I thought with a note that my respect for Lena’s skills had already been earned out.

  “Is that acceptable to you, Mister Gall?” Martin raised his eyebrows at me.

  “Of course, council member. This will work perfectly.”

  Martin smiled, wrinkling laugh lines at the corners of his mouth.

  “It’s my job to serve. You’ll have your permission to report from within my district. I’ll do what I can to make yours an exclusive for a few weeks.”

  “Thank you, Mister Macroy,” I said.

  Lena stifled a yawn, then stood up.

  “I’m sure you’re as eager as I am to get out of here,” she said to me. “So if there’s nothing else?”

  “I suppose so,” I said.

  “Lucky you,” said Martin with another wink. “I’ll be stuck here all day.”

  I checked on a few of the network statistics for BrightNet's news reports. My dose helped me process the new information with ease. Our broadcasts were trending upward at an even steeper gradient than the other news networks covering the crisis. Sarah Harper and her brothers should be happy with that, and Elizabeth as well.

  I wasn't so sure how I felt about it. Many of the networks were covering the side of the refugee crisis the city talked about, the inconvenience and growing tension of increased population, but there was another side everyone seemed to be downplaying, if not missing entirely.

  Winter might be over, but under-supplied people could die of exposure in the rain as much as the snow. I wondered if I saw the danger more sharply because I was an immigrant from the west in the past. My journey from the Green Valley where I'd grown up hadn't been easy, and I had made most of that trip alone.

  The message of our coverage seemed to imply danger to the city, and that could be real, but if the city would suffer, the refugees would have it even worse.

  I sighed as I disconnected. When my vision returned to normal I found Elizabeth watching me from just inside my office door. Her arms were folded, her eyes thoughtful.

  "You look worried," she said. "Is something wrong?"

  "You could say that," I said.

  "Go ahead. We're partners Jeth, and we've been through a lot lately, so don't think you'll offend me."

  "I understand." I smiled slightly. "I guess the last time you really got upset with me was when I brought Rebecca from the market."

  Her gaze fell.

  "Maybe.
That was important. So what is it now?"

  I hesitated, realizing I'd put my foot in my mouth by reminding her of the upset, despite it being months old and everything having progressed far from there.

  "It's the refugees," I said. "I'm worried we're not covering the crisis on their side of the district."

  Her brows bent as she frowned.

  "I know what you mean, but we're a still a small operation. We don't even have a real investigative reporter on staff."

  "About that," I said. "What about Samantha?"

  "Samantha Lockwell? I thought she hated your guts."

  "She doesn't like entertainment from artificial memories, sure. I'm not in that business anymore."

  "Seriously, Jeth? Lockwell?"

  I shrugged.

  "It was an idea. Last I checked she likes to work the humanitarian beat, and there isn't a bigger crisis than this one on the horizon unless a hurricane hits the southern part of the city half a year early."

  "You really aren't joking."

  I arched my eyebrows and waggled them.

  "Does it look like I'm joking?"

  "Trick question, right?"

  "Yeah."

  "If you want to get in touch with her, be my guest. But when she says no, will you drop this?"

  "No deal," I said.

  "Alright, Jeth, but she doesn't like me a whole lot either. Can you find her by yourself?"

  "Sure thing," I said.

  "Oh, and one other thing."

  "What?"

  "If she does agree, don't bring her here until she has a story in hand. She's nasty to be around, especially when she's hungry for truth."

  "Sure. I get it."

  "Of course you do. You get it because you're the same way right now."

  "What's that supposed to mean?"

  "You're prickly."

  "I am not."

  "And a little petulant."

  I sighed.

  "Fine, you've read my mind."

  "Didn't have to," she said.

  I rolled my eyes.

  "You've been around Sarah Harper too much, lately."