Executioner's Lament

by Justin Rishel

  “An aircraft.” Aubrey answered for everyone else. “Is that normal?”

  “No,” Rudolfo said.

  “Who would be …” Malina started to ask.

  “I do not know.” Rudolfo interrupted Malina’s question.

  Rudolfo leaned forward and took the mouse from Francesca. He changed the view back to the shot of the triangular tail section of the aircraft. A series of numbers and letters were printed vertically on the tailfin.

  “I can find out who its registered to.” Malina began pulling out a tablet from her bag.

  “Please do.” Rudolfo stared at the craft, looking deeply puzzled.

  Aubrey sat on the bed, overwhelmed by all that was happening.

  Looking back, he concluded that immeasurably bad luck had put him in front of Tim Frass’s building the day it exploded. More bad luck found him at the police station at the right time to hand them their first major clue. Now, luck led him to this prison at the same time the inmate population decided to stage a murderous riot.

  No, he knew none of that was true. It wasn’t luck. He wanted all of it. He’d desperately wanted to help the police in their investigation into the bombings. After the battle with the mercenaries, he could have let it all go and gone home from the hospital to resume his work with OWG Insurance.

  He chose to seek out Malina. He chose to pursue the leads and evidence.

  He was here now because it was where he wanted to be.

  “Okay, you’re not going to believe this,” Malina said, staring at her tablet, transfixed. “That plane belongs …” Her tablet pinged with an alert and Aubrey recognized it as a notification from Ted. Her eyes shifted to a corner of the screen. Her eyes scanned that section of the screen for several seconds, then her jaw dropped.

  “What is it?” Aubrey asked. Malina appeared to be re-reading the same text over and over. Another moment passed and he persisted, “What is it, Malina?”

  “Um, Martin.” She looked up at him with wide eyes. Her face pale.

  “Yeah?” Aubrey stood and approached her.

  “Ted came through with the last of the messages. I just … Well, you need to read them.” With shaking hands, she extended the tablet.

  He took the tablet from her as if it were the antidote to a poison about to stop his heart. Ted had decoded the last three strings of messages from the Ventana intranet game, A Word With You. They were listed in order by date, earliest to latest.

  January 18, 2043

  Alkorn L: have what we need to go to next steps

  Imanpor R: Q outsiders

  Alkorn L: Yes need them

  Imanpor R: Who

  Alkorn L: reliable passionate people

  Shoeman N: What do they need

  Alkorn L: Proof

  Winthorpe S: How much

  Alkorn L: Proof Z is cause

  Aubrey paused and read the first string again. He was struck by the reference to outsiders. He looked at Malina.

  “Outsiders. He must be talking about OFP. And ‘proof Z is cause’? OFP thinks it’s the cause of everything wrong with the world, so that fits.”

  He continued reading, scrolling to the next set of messages.

  January 21, 2043

  Winthorpe S: forty eight hours Q update

  Alkorn L: asked for more time two more days

  Shoeman N: have what we need move ahead

  Alkorn L: two days we wait

  “Giving somebody time,” Aubrey spoke to himself. The rest of the room had dissolved as he was consumed by his own thoughts. “‘Have what we need’. Proof of whatever Z was the cause of, I imagine.”

  He moved on to the last string of messages, vaguely aware of Malina working on her other tablet and the Tappers scanning video feeds. The final string was sent two days before the scientists were arrested.

  January 22, 2043

  Imanpor R: What is going to happen

  Alkorn L: Unknown

  Shoeman N: Are we safe

  Alkorn L: Unknown

  Winthorpe S: People need to know

  Alkorn L: They will

  Winthorpe S: Kids are in danger

  Winthorpe S: We must stop Z now

  Alkorn L: Too late no stopping it

  Imanpor R: We are demons

  Alkorn L: Then Sarazin is the devil

  His eyes lost focus. The white text on the tablet screen blurred. What did he just read? He went through the messages again and again. Did he read it right?

  “Malina, are you sure Ted deciphered this correctly?”

  “There’s only one way to decipher them. The wrong way would make them totally unreadable.” Her face was stone, staring back at him. Apparently, she had come to the same conclusion and wanted to believe it as little as he did.

  “Malina …”

  “I know,” she said.

  “They’re saying that …”

  “I know.”

  Francesca had turned to face them, her mouth open, but she said nothing. Rudolfo’s face looked as stony as ever, placid and incomprehensible.

  “Can you put them all together? All the messages together in order?” Aubrey handed Malina the tablet. He had to be sure. He had trouble recalling what the rest of the messages said exactly and he had to know. Hunches like this could be dangerous.

  A moment later, she handed the tablet back and sat down on the bed next to him.

  Together they read all of the deciphered messages between Dr. Leo Alkorn and his team of scientists spanning the seven days prior to their arrest.

  January 16, 2043

  Alkorn L: No comm out of this chat

  Winthorpe S: We know

  Imanpor R: Q Are we safe

  Alkorn L: Yes

  Winthorpe S: Q we are doing this

  Alkorn L: Yes

  Winthorpe S: Q Certain

  Alkorn L: Dead certain

  January 17, 2043

  Shoeman N: Q Plan

  Alkorn L: Get what we need first cannot move on without it

  Shoeman N: Q Then

  Alkorn L: do what we must no choice

  January 18, 2043

  Alkorn L: have what we need to go to next steps

  Imanpor R: Q outsiders

  Alkorn L: Yes need them

  Imanpor R: Q Who

  Alkorn L: reliable passionate people

  Shoeman N: Q What do they need

  Alkorn L: Proof

  Winthorpe S: Q How much

  Alkorn L: Proof Z is cause

  January 19, 2043

  Imanpor R: Team is worried

  Alkorn L: Q Team or you

  Imanpor R: Plz

  Alkorn L: Shouldn’t talk outside too dangerous

  Alkorn L: And do not forget we are doing this no choice

  Imanpor R: No need to remind

  Shoeman N: Q Certain no one else knows

  Alkorn L: Only us for now

  Imanpor R: Q Assurances

  Alkorn L: None

  Winthorpe S: So be it move forward

  Alkorn L: We must no choice

  January 20, 2043

  Alkorn L: He knows

  Shoeman N: Q Jorgetson

  Alkorn L: Yes now we wait

  January 21, 2043

  Winthorpe S: twenty-four hours Q update

  Alkorn L: asked for more time two more days

  Shoeman N: have what we need move ahead

  Alkorn L: two days we wait

  January 22, 2043

  Imanpor R: Q What is going to happen

  Alkorn L: Unknown

  Shoeman N: Q Are we safe

  Alkorn L: Unknown

  Winthorpe S: People need to know

  Alkorn L: They will

  Winthorpe S: Kids are in danger

  Winthorpe S: We must stop Z now

  Alkorn L: Too late no stopping it

  Imanpor R: We are demons

  Alkorn L: Then Sarazin is the devil

  January 23, 2043

  Alkorn L: Do nothing say nothing families at risk />
  Shoeman N: Q What have we done

  Imanpor R: Q Trust his threats

  Alkorn L: Yes very much

  Winthorpe S: Q What now

  Alkorn L: Prison and wait and say nothing do nothing

  As Aubrey read the last line, he could feel the others’ eyes waiting for him to say something. What he had figured out was going to change everything, and their lives were already at risk in more ways than he cared to think about. What he had to say had the potential to throw the world as they knew it into total upheaval.

  In a low voice, Aubrey said, “One Front for the People was right. Zentransa is poisoning society.”

  24

  Answers and Questions

  “Can you clarify what you mean by that?” Francesca sat in a chair near the bed while Rudolfo stood in the corner.

  Aubrey looked up. Francesca’s placid face made him wonder if it was the same expression she’d wear were she evaluating an inmate who had just caved in another man’s skull.

  “OFP has always claimed Zentransa was poisoning society, but in a socio-economic way. This,” he waved a hand over the seven days’ worth of messages, “paints a different picture. A picture with Z still front and center as the culprit, but guilty of an entirely different crime.”

  “Please elaborate,” Rudolfo said with his arms crossed, leaning into the corner.

  Malina looked at Aubrey open-mouthed. He knew they had both come to the same conclusion. He nodded and she began.

  “Weeks before these messages started between Alkorn and his team,” she handed Rudolfo the tablet displaying all the decoded messages, “two children never woke up from a night’s sleep. They were the first two cases of what’s being called Boarding School Syndrome.”

  Rudolfo nodded. “I know of this Syndrome.” He scanned the messages then handed them to Francesca.

  “Originally, we thought the scientists were behind it all: first, BSS then, the bombings. We thought they were out to harm Sarazin and his company. Now, it looks like they were a red herring for something much worse.”

  Aubrey stood and began pacing in the small space. “At first, we read all those messages with an assumption of the scientists’ guilt and it skewed our perception.” He felt that Rudolfo and Francesca could appreciate the power of bias. Their entire purpose was to judge. Judgment was the more acceptable cousin of bias.

  “But,” Aubrey continued, “if you read it as if they’re the victims, as if they’re being held hostage with threats and blackmail, things look different.” He stalked over to Francesca and took the tablet from her hands. “See, here,” he pointed to January 17th, “Alkorn says ‘get what we need first cannot move on without it’. Initially, we assumed that referred to the money they were stealing in order to fund their reign of terror. But they weren’t after money at all, they were after data.”

  “What kind of data?” Francesca asked.

  Aubrey ignored her, speaking fast. “Then the next day they’re talking about outsiders, ‘reliable passionate people’. You think they’re talking about OFP, but it’s not. It has to be journalists. Journalists to get the word out.”

  “Word out about what?” Francesca asked.

  “Malina, put some feelers out and see if any of your reporter buddies were contacted about this.” She nodded. Aubrey still held the tablet, pointing at it as he resumed the story.

  “Then, the Ventana four are on their way to prison and can’t risk exposing …”

  “What are you talking about?” Francesca said, near shouting.

  Aubrey saw the entire puzzle now. Its curved, notched, misshapen pieces that had for so long taunted and frightened him now fell into place and came together as if magnetized.

  “James Sarazin created Zentransa with the help of Dr. Leo Alkorn, his lead scientist.” Aubrey spoke slowly and clearly, more for himself than for Francesca or Rudolfo.

  They nodded.

  “Boarding School Syndrome is not a weapon used by OFP to terrorize the city. It’s a side-effect. It’s a side-effect of Zentransa.”

  Francesca leaned back, her mouth fell open.

  He thrust his hand at the tablet. “Look at some of the things they say: ‘proof Z is cause’, ‘people need to know’, ‘kids are in danger’, ‘we must stop Z now’, ‘Sarazin is the devil’.” He shrugged. “My guess is the first child, Owen Jorgetson, falls ill and Sarazin gets wind of it because he’s close friends with Mr. Jorgetson. Then, maybe Sarazin has a hunch what’s causing it. He’s a smart guy, he could have figured it out. He brings in Alkorn to confirm it. He runs some tests and confirms Z is somehow responsible.”

  “‘He knows’,” Malina said, referencing the first message Ted decoded. “They meant that Sarazin knew about Z being the cause, not that he knew about them stealing.”

  “Right, because they never were stealing anything. So, Alkorn goes to Sarazin, tells him it’s Zentransa making the kids sick. He pretends to care, hence the message ‘two more days’ sent on January 21st. Sarazin must have asked them for time to figure out what to do.”

  “Then, Alkorn and the team get arrested for allegedly stealing from Ventana,” Malina said.

  “Framed,” Aubrey corrected her. “They were framed and arrested and sent here. Sarazin wanted to shut them up.”

  “Right. And he threatens them and their families, so they couldn’t do anything about it. They wouldn’t talk to you and your partners when you came here to interrogate them.”

  Rudolfo closed his eyes, shaking his head. After a long pause, he spoke. “Children aren’t even supposed to be on Zentransa. How could it affect them?”

  Aubrey sighed, he’d thought about that in the short span since their discovery and had some theories. “It must be passed down from the parents. Plenty of disorders and genetic abnormalities can be passed that way. Imagine a mother who drinks heavily while pregnant or a father who is exposed to radiation before conception. Genetic mutation passing from parents to children is common.”

  Francesca raised a hand and Aubrey stopped pacing. “What about all the bombings? I thought they were connected to BSS and OFP.”

  Aubrey looked away, staring into space for a moment. He’d almost forgotten about the bombings. The revelation about Zentransa was brought into clearer focus when the bombings were added as a variable. It was like wearing glasses and walking out of a cold room. Slowly the fog was lifting and he started to see everything perfectly.

  “He knew there would be more.” He spoke in a low voice, turned and started pacing for several seconds before continuing. “Alkorn probably told him Polly Binns-Lourdes and Owen Jorgetson were only the beginning. More kids would get BSS and …”

  Malina shot to her feet, startling Aubrey from his thoughts. “They were all in on Z early.”

  “What? Who? What do you mean?” Aubrey said confused.

  “All the kids who have BSS. All of them had parents who were involved with Ventana in the early days of Z. That’s what they all have in common. It must take a certain amount of time to manifest in the parents before they have kids who go on to be affected.”

  Aubrey froze. He stood silent, staring at Malina with a profound sense of awareness of her. Not only was she highly skilled at her chosen profession, she was also an incredibly good detective.

  “Damn. You’re right. And Sarazin must have put that together too. Maybe he did the math and figured more would fall sick soon.” Aubrey sat on a wooden chair near the foot of the bed. Discoveries such as these had a tendency to sap his energy. It was as if his brain burned extra fuel to figure things out.

  “Go on,” Rudolfo said.

  “He needed a distraction. He needed someone to take the blame. He hires the mercenaries to bomb the city, claim responsibility, and wait for the next case of BSS to come out. Then, they’d claim responsibility for that too.” Elbows on his knees, he stared at the wall. His eyes felt heavy. He was suddenly starving.

  “So, OFP had nothing to do with it?” Francesca asked.

  Aub
rey shook his head.

  “And the scientists?”

  “Not even scapegoats, just victims. Like all those killed in the blasts and all those kids who might never wake up.” Aubrey felt the weight of it all now. It pressed on his back and shoulders like an existential pressure.

  Malina stood with her arms crossed looking at Aubrey. “All for the sake of keeping the real cause of BSS from the public. To keep society’s addiction to the Z pill firmly in place.” Her hair was a mess, but it suited her, like she meant to do it. He liked that about her.

  “Yeah,” Aubrey said. “There’s something else, though. Wilcott. How could Sarazin possibly penetrate the Order to convince him to execute the Ventana four?”

  Rudolfo’s chest expanded as he breathed in audibly. He clasped his hands behind his back and moved closer to Aubrey. Staring at the door, then above at the ceiling he said, “There is only one person who will know.”

  “Member Principal Jacobi?” Francesca asked.

  Rudolfo did not respond. His silence was affirmation enough for Aubrey.

  “What do we do?” Francesca asked.

  “Go to the police?” Malina said, shrugging.

  “No.” Aubrey shook his head. “We’ve seen what he’s capable of when no one is on to him. I’d hate to see Sarazin cornered or under pressure.”

  “So, what then?” Malina said.

  “You two need to get to Jacobi while he’s still alive.” Aubrey stood and pointed to Francesca and Rudolfo. “We’ll find Sarazin and … well, I don’t know what we’ll do. We need to find him first.”

  “Shit.” Malina slapped her forehead. “I completely zoned out while we were talking.” Her eyes were the size of saucers. “I know where he is.”

  “Sarazin? How?” Aubrey moved toward her.

  “The aircraft parked up there,” she said, pointing to the ceiling. “On top of the prison. I checked the registration numbers. It belongs to him. It belongs to James Sarazin.”