by EJ Fisch
Skeet stood, still holding the railing, trying to decide whether to be relieved by Aroska’s words or infuriated that he would wait so long to confess. The latter, he realized, was little more than an excuse to be angry about everything that was going on. If Aroska had taken the time to seek them out for this, he was most likely on their side. It still didn’t account for the fact that he had come to Headquarters to speak with Dasaro – there was some explaining that needed to be done.
“Any chance we’ll ever get to find out what that ‘violation of protocol’ was?” he asked, allowing the tone of his voice to soften significantly.
Tarbic shrugged. “If you do, Ziva should be the one to tell you. The only thing I’ll say is that she knew the consequences but she chose to do it anyway. She saved my life…again.”
Skeet ruffled his hair and glanced at Zinni, who was eyeing him like a mother waiting for an apology from her child. “So is that why you’re here? Decided you’d drop by and tell the truth when you had a spare few minutes?”
Aroska’s face suddenly hardened a bit and he drew closer to the two of them, speaking in a hushed voice. “I’m here because Ziva sent me.”
For several seconds, Skeet wasn’t sure if he’d heard him right, then he wasn’t sure if he could hear at all. All the noise around him was suddenly drowned out by a deafening…silence inside his head. The idea that Ziva was alive and well sent a shiver of relief down his spine.
“She’s with you?” he asked, voice dry.
“She said that for your safety I shouldn’t tell you where she is,” Aroska replied. “She’s safe though, and we’re doing everything we can to get her off the planet.”
“We?” Zinni asked.
“She’s probably doing more work than I am at this point,” Aroska explained, “but I like to think it’s a collective effort. Jada Jaroon is on board to a degree, but according to Ziva she’s afraid to do too much for fear of being implicated. My instructions were to come here and monitor the progress of the investigation, as well as to make sure the two of you were aware of what was going on.”
Skeet suddenly felt humiliated by the way he’d been acting, though he still wasn’t thrilled with the choices Aroska had previously made. “And I thank you for that,” he said. “How’s the old girl holding up?”
“I think she’s scared,” Tarbic replied, “although you’d never get her to admit it. She’s doing better than I imagine I would if I were in her place. She’s quiet…and cranky as ever.”
“I don’t doubt it,” Skeet said, allowing a short chuckle before becoming solemn again. “Listen though. I’m not sure how much you remember of that conversation we had—”
“How could I forget any of it?”
“—but you’re going to have to tread extra lightly around Ziva right now. If she ever feels threatened in the slightest way, she’s like an animal trapped in a corner and she won’t hesitate to fight her way out. She may want to do things you don’t agree with, but odds are she knows what she’s doing and trying to interfere will get you killed. Sound familiar?”
“Very much so. On that note, I may have to do some things you don’t agree with either. Part of ‘monitoring the investigation’ includes gaining the captains’ trust to the point that they’re willing to give me the information I need. I’m not sure what all that’s going to entail.”
And then there was that. However, the thought of having someone else on their side in this seemingly eternal struggle was enough to make Skeet willing to forgive both Aroska and Ziva in advance for any lengths they went to in order to get the job done. There was no question of whether or not things would get ugly – he hoped this turn of events would get everything moving along faster. The sooner this was all over, the better.
All he could do was nod in agreement as Zinni responded. “Understood,” she said quietly. “I suppose we would do the same if we were in your boots. Is there anything specific we can do on our end?”
Aroska shrugged and stole a nervous glance back into the building. “Ziva says she didn’t kill Tachi. The way I understand it, everyone is supposed to be doing everything they can to convict her. I would start by trying to prove her innocent.”
“It won’t be easy,” Skeet said. “Dasaro’s running this place like a mining camp on Midore. Do you think you can keep him occupied?”
“I’ll do my best. Speaking of which, I should be getting back before he wonders what I’m doing.”
Skeet rushed forward when Aroska turned to leave. “One more thing, Tarbic – take care of her, will you? She’s going to want to handle everything herself and she’s not going to be able to.”
Aroska grinned wide. “And yet you just finished telling me not to interfere with anything she does.”
“There’s a difference between interfering and looking out for her,” Skeet replied. “You can help her by being there for her and backing her up on the rare occasion that she actually asks you to. Compliment her, try to keep her thinking positive.” He smirked, though his face felt like it was laced with a tangible layer of disappointment – disappointment that he couldn’t be there for his friend when it seemed she needed him most. “Keep her from wreaking more havoc than necessary.”
Aroska’s eyes darted back toward the building again before he shook Skeet’s hand. “Will do, Sergeant. I’d say we’ll contact you, but there’s no guaranteeing what will happen in the next couple of days.”
“Do what you have to,” Zinni said. “Be safe.”
Nodding respectfully and submissively toward each of them, Aroska turned and rubbed his freshly cut hair as he walked back toward the building. Skeet watched him go, lost in the rhythmic echo of his footsteps as he crossed the landing pad. He was startled out of his trance when the man stopped and turned back to face them, eyes wide as if a sudden thought had come to mind. “Do either of you have a spare memory stick I can borrow?”
-37-
Royal Guard Headquarters
Haphor, Haphez
Ready to rip his hair out, Kade buried his face in his hands and let a growl escape his throat. Feeling the sudden urge to stand up, he did so, sending his chair skidding backward and drawing the attention of those working nearby. Only then did he realize how cramped his legs were. Upon pondering it for a moment, it struck him that he had not left his workstation since arriving at the Royal Guard office six hours earlier. After staring at his computer screen for what had seemed like an eternity, his eyes felt as though they were about to ooze out of their sockets, and he was jittery after skipping breakfast and subsequently missing out on his lunch break.
Clearing his throat and sending apologetic glances toward his coworkers, Kade lowered his head and slinked into the building’s main corridor, angling toward the lavatory. Upon entering, he wasted no time in going to the sink and splashing a generous amount of warm water over his face. Angry and at a loss, he lifted his eyes to meet the gaze of his reflection in the mirror and watched the drips of water as they trickled down over his chin.
What am I doing? Since the previous evening he had been over the med center’s surveillance feeds dozens of times, scouring them for any signs of the mysterious visitors who had – he was sure of it – murdered Spence. He’d checked every cam, every angle, yet he was still empty handed. It was almost as if they were ghosts, as if he had only imagined seeing them there. That or they were good enough to recognize the placement of the cams and avoid them entirely. In a way, the less information he found, the more he was convinced someone was up to something shady.
Feeling mildly better, Kade dried his face and hair and returned to his desk. He wasn’t sure where to even pick up the search, having the sense that he had already depleted the possibilities. He had even checked footage from traffic cams surrounding the med center, still to no avail. He dared not go to his superiors and friends and say he’d given up – there had to be a clue somewhere. He would sooner go back and question every living soul in that hospital than admit he was done.
His communicator beepe
d and a text-based alert appeared, informing him that the coroner’s report had just been posted. A new spark of motivation ignited inside him and he immediately made himself comfortable in his chair. Spence may have been wounded critically, but at the time Kade had spoken to him, he’d been in no condition to just keel over unexpectedly. Surely a well-trained group of medical personnel would take that into consideration. He eagerly accessed the database and began reading over the newly-posted report.
Kade scanned through the beginning of the text, which was composed mainly of data regarding the surgery and a log of all wellness checks and administered medications. The anticipation was growing almost unbearable when his eyes finally fell upon the words he was looking for.
Cause of death was deemed cardiac arrest (with evidence of chemical induction), as determined after a thorough study by veteran medical examiner Eason Fromm.
Kade would have cried out if not for the fact that his heart had suddenly lodged itself in his throat. Dumbfounded, he read over the report again and then a third time, confirming he hadn’t missed something. Confident that he was sure of what he was seeing, he once again leapt from his seat.
“Special Agent Zona!” he exclaimed, startling those around him. He picked up his comm receiver, changed his mind, and shouted again – louder this time. “Zona!”
Without even realizing it, Kade was on the move. He couldn’t even tell he was running – it felt more like floating than anything else. All he could see was an image of the text in his mind as he stumbled blindly up the stairs. Aside from this discovery, nothing else mattered at the moment. “Zona!” he hollered once more.
The supervisor appeared at the top of the steps, looking as though he were responding to an emergency alarm. He caught Kade by the shoulders and held him firmly, smoky-gray eyes wide.
“Huhren shouka souhn…Shevin! Have you completely lost your mind?”
“Not at all, sir!” Kade replied, grinning as wide as his facial muscles and jawbone would allow. “Anything but, for that matter. I’ve got something you need to see.”
Zona shook his head and glanced around at the agents who were looking on in confusion. The corners of his mouth curled downward into a frown, but Kade was certain the information he had discovered would change that. “This had better be good, Shevin,” he growled.
Refraining from all-out dragging his superior officer down the stairs, Kade turned and descended quickly, ignoring the strange looks sent his way by the other RG agents. “I was never able to find any footage of our mysterious friends from the med center,” he explained, “but what I did find does a pretty damn good job of proving my theory correct.”
“I never said I didn’t believe your theory,” Zona said. “Is that what this is all about?”
Maybe part of it was. “Just read this, sir.”
With a sigh, Zona cleared his throat and took a seat in front of Kade’s screen. “What am I looking at?” he asked.
“The report from Agent Spence’s autopsy,” Kade replied. “If I could direct your attention to the third paragraph…”
Zona scanned to the place Kade had indicated and cleared his throat once more. “’Cause of death’,” he began, “’was deemed natural causes according to sustained injuries, as determined after a careful study’…I’m not sure if I understand what your point is, Shevin.”
Kade hardly heard him as he leaned down to re-examine the report for himself. Sure enough, the text was different than it had been only moments before, now displaying the exact words Zona had just read. Stammering, Kade reached over the man and scrolled up and down through the report, searching desperately for the one sentence that would have solved all of his problems. He saw this was indeed the correct report – Zona hadn’t accidentally opened a different one or some such thing – and yet it was far from correct. He stood back, one hand pressed against his sweaty forehead, heart pounding.
“Payvan must have hit him harder than we thought,” snickered the agent sitting at the next workstation.
“That was uncalled for!” Zona snapped, shutting the other man up. He stood up and faced Kade, locking eyes with him for a moment before putting an arm around his trembling shoulders and guiding him casually off the work floor. “If you have any reasonable explanation for what just happened, I’d really love to hear it,” he said with a grim tone.
“Sir, I can explain,” Kade said quietly, feeling as though he had taken one step forward and two steps back. No, it was more like he’d taken a giant leap forward and then he’d fallen on his face, pushed by some unseen hand that seemed bent on making sure the investigation went as miserably as possible for him. “You’ve got to believe me when I say that’s not what the report said when I read it. It was somehow changed in the time it took me to leave my desk and come find you.”
He’d never seen Zona’s face so cold and hard in all the time he’d known the man. “Do you have any idea how crazy that sounds?”
“I know!” Kade said, steadying himself against the wall as nausea began to set in. “But it’s true, and it would explain why I couldn’t find those agents in the med center. The coroner said Spence’s heart failure was chemically induced! He was murdered and Fromm figured it out!”
“So tell me how it got changed then.”
“Well, the people who killed him could have done it. That’s logical, right?”
“The people who don’t seem to exist,” Zona said. “I’ll admit you piqued my curiosity, Shevin. I contacted the med center myself, but nobody remembers seeing anything out of the ordinary. You’re the last logged visitor, so they know you were there near the time of death, regardless of how Spence’s heart failed. Unless you’re the one who killed him – and I’d like to think none of my people would be that stupid – you’re out of luck.”
Kade’s shoulders sagged. “You don’t think I’m crazy do you?”
“Here’s the thing, kid,” Zona said, softening a bit. “This case has been tough on all of us. I’ve been cutting you a lot of slack lately, more slack than I usually give a rookie.” He held up his hand for silence when Kade began to interject. “I like you, Shevin, and I’ve tried to look out for you, but you’ve gone way too far this time. Please don’t make me regret all the things I’ve done for you.”
Kade swallowed, suddenly stricken with fear. “Yes, sir.”
“Why don’t you take a couple days off and get some rest. The galaxy knows you could use it. Go home, spend some time with your family, get yourself calmed down, and I’ll contact you when I’m ready to have you back. And Shevin, it’s not a suggestion.”
“Yes, sir,” Kade said again, feeling incapable of formulating any other words.
“I’m doing you a favor here.” Zona clapped him hard on the back. “Say hello to the missus for me.”
-38-
Memorial grounds
Argall, Haphez
Argall, Haphez – one of the only cities on the planet that wasn’t located in the lowlands along the Tranyi River. It was situated in an atypical valley deep within the mountains over forty degrees north of the Haphezian equator, nearly four thousand kilometers from the nearest metropolis. The settlement – home to a little under a thousand people – saw few visitors other than the freighter pilots who came through periodically, and it wasn’t often that the occupants went elsewhere. They didn’t mind the isolation, didn’t mind the quiet. They were a tight community with little concern about anything that was unrelated to their humble home and way of life.
The sun had already dropped behind the rocky hills, shrouding the valley and the little city in darkness. The mountains were nothing more than jagged silhouettes standing out against the fiery orange sky. Some stars were visible in the distance where the black night was encroaching. Evening insects squawked and chirped, unseen among the rocks, and the sounds of larger nocturnal animals could be heard as they emerged from their daytime hideouts.
Mag Reilly stood with closed eyes, taking all of it in until the fire cracked and his atte
ntion was drawn back to the funeral pyre before him. The heat stung his face and the smoke made his eyes water, but he could not bring himself to move away. He stuffed his hands into his pockets and stared into the fire, watching as the body of the woman gradually melted away. There was something mesmerizing about the flames that did a fair job of distracting him from the reason he was really standing there. This was the third gathering of this nature Mag had attended in the past two weeks, the fifth in the past month. The first had been for his neighbor, the second for the wife of his best friend. Now he stood in silence watching his own flesh and blood burn. His mother had been shot in the head two days earlier, executed at point blank range in the same manner as the other four.
These most recent killings hardly made him bat an eye however when compared to the massacre that had occurred three years earlier. That bloodbath had taken the lives of his father, his sister, and many others he was close to. He and his younger brother had helped form a militia to resist the mercenaries who had overrun the humble town of Argall, and they had seen moderate success until his brother had been fatally wounded and Mag himself had nearly been killed. He had resolved then to stop fighting and care for his grieving mother, but now here he stood watching the fire eat away at her body, feeling as though he had not only failed but had wasted his time as well. It was all mentally exhausting, and Mag wondered if he was even capable of feeling emotion anymore.
At thirty-six years old, he was the oldest child in his family, survived now only by his youngest sister who had been banished as an infant because of birth abnormalities. After a bit of calculating, he concluded that she would be around twenty-five now, if she was even still alive. He wondered if, wherever she was, she had any inkling of what was transpiring at her birthplace – or if she had ever even heard of Argall.
Mag lifted his head and took a few seconds to look around at the circle of people who had gathered to pay their respects to his mother. It was the same general group who had attended the other four memorials. He knew everyone there by name and could also name the loved one each of them had lost. It seemed that they were involuntarily drawn to one another, propelled by the pain, sadness and subconscious understanding that others were experiencing the same loss.