by P. S. Power
The older black man shook his hand and smiled at him.
“Mr. Yi. Good to see you well, and that this situation hasn't gotten more out of control. I understand that has something to do with you? Nice work. Anyway, I believe that this team should be able to determine the guilt or innocence of anyone involved in this situation. As you know, I can tell who's lying, no matter how well they lie or even if they believe it themselves. Christian here is able to tell what thoughts a person is having, as you know. This wonderful woman is Ellen Doer, her abilities allow her to tell if a person, or anything else, has been tampered with, and what exactly was done. If a single thought was swayed, she'll know it and how it was done. She's also an amazing investigator in case you ever need one.”
They started instantly, after asking Brian to stand back at a remove and assure their safety while they worked. They didn't go quickly, instead checking and rechecking, questioning and even berating the two on the ground so hard that Brian thought that Prime was going to hit Chris for a few seconds.
When they finished they asked Brian to call Bridget over. She sat alone on the far side of the compound, glaring at anyone that came near her. When Brian walked over he smiled at her, which cut the anger in her eyes by at least half.
“Well, the brain trust over there has proclaimed your parents innocent. Now they want to poke your brain too, just to make sure no one messed with you, brain wise I mean, and that should make it clear to everyone that your parents are truly innocent.”
She looked at him, hopped to her feet and hugged him hard. “Thank you... They would have killed my parents if you hadn't stopped them. I hate them all now. Not you, but those others.” Her voice didn't sound casual in this hate, but dark and bloody, like she really wanted to hurt them. All of them.
He took her hand and walked her over slowly, so that everyone could see what was happening, people started to follow behind them as they went.
“Brian, um, do you know why Clark's avoiding me? I mean, we used to be good friends and stuff and now... he ran away from me when I started to walk up to get food...”
He gave her hand a little squeeze. “Oh, that's just because I told him that I'd kill him if he got too close to you. Which is silly, of course, because I'm pretty sure Marcia would do it way before I got there. It's mainly to help keep him out of trouble though, so you need to help him out by definitely not having sex with him at all, OK? I know that kind of thing can be hard for you, but I also know you can do it if you try. For a while at least. Worse come to worse go after some other guy and not him, all right?”
She nodded. “Would you really kill him just for that?”
He didn't say anything, just gave her hand a small squeeze. You'd think that people would have figured out that he didn't just go around killing people or even hurting them. If Clark tried to hurt Bridget, that would be different, but having sex with her? Well, she'd had sex with more people than Brian had in his whole life already and it kind of was one of those things that was going to happen given her nature. Of course Clark had done it when she was twelve, which even if she kept showing up in his bed while he slept was skeevy. He could have done then what Brian did now, and just locked his door at night. Bridget had yet to simply kick it in... But he wouldn't kill the guy over it.
Marcia would. Or given everything, possibly Prime or Charlot. Or Director Moore.
Thinking about it, he looked around, not having seen Beatdown recently. After a while he found her, standing almost right in front of him. He'd been thrown off by her clothing, a baggy pair of sweats instead of the normal heavy white garments she wore most of the time. Her hair was gone on the left side of her head in big patches, like it had been cut off with a knife, nearly to the scalp. It looked like what angry little boy's did to their sisters dolls when they weren't watching. She stood by the Director and looked well enough, if a little bedraggled.
He raised a hand and waved her over, along with the Director and all the agents. They moved in with a half dozen other people that Brian had either only met once or twice, or didn't know at all. The people looked important, wearing suits and talking on phones as they walked. Brian walked Bridget over to the trio of fact finders and stood by her as they repeated the grilling, if a good bit more gently than they had with the elder Chambers. She colored a few times in anger, but was proclaimed to be telling the truth, and being free of mental or physical tampering in the matter.
Stepping forward, Brian suggested they test everyone that took part in the fight for tampering too. Rather than complain it was too big a task Ellen smiled sweetly and stepped forward, taking his hand.
“Tampering... yes, medical on many occasions, severe mental manipulation dozens of times, another person living in your head, separate from you... In this case, clear...”
She hadn't been present for any part of the fight so had to be steered to the people that actually attacked. She separated them into two groups, one with only a few people, Charles the Team Two leader, Tobin, and a much recovered Crandall who'd come over slowly and was cleared by Ellen just as slowly, as if she was avoiding talking about some of the tampering she found in him, censoring herself. The other group kept growing and finally she stopped and held up a hand.
“This group over here, the small one, has all been influenced in some way today, varied, suggestion, input, and raw manipulation of emotion...” She walked over to the other, much larger group.
“This group has all been influenced very clearly, and by a single person. The message was so strong and clear it still resonates in most of them, that being “Prime is guilty”. Clear, but not directive in nature. With the evidence given, the video from earlier, it was probably enough to get them to believe they were correct. It didn't force the fight or even suggest it however.”
Ellen folded her hands in front of her loose sweater and walked away from the people in both groups, her shoes clicking slightly on the hard ground. No one said anything for a minute, but Prime stood up and started walking away, Charlot following. After a few seconds Bridget ran to catch up. They walked toward the front gate together, heads held high. Brian walked after them, quickly, reaching them just before they all got to the front gate.
“All right... we still have cars around here, let's get you one and enough cash to get a hotel room or two in town. Or at least some food to take with you, if you all want to camp out, but it's awfully cold for that if you don't have to. For that matter we need to get most of the people out of here for a few days. The cooks and service staff... Sorry, not your problem right now. Still, you don't have to just walk out into the wilderness. These people owe you, so don't let this be just another indignity, all right? Give me a few minutes to arrange things?”
Charlot, the right side of her face having bruised and swollen impressively nodded stiffly. Scott's nostrils flared but he nodded too, Bridget grinned, a sad look that didn't reach her eyes. A tear glimmered and then fell, leaving a track down her face. She shook her head, not telling him no, but trying to negate the whole situation.
“This is the only home I've ever had. I... what am I going to do Brian? I don't know anything else, not really...”
Holding out an arm he took her into a hug for a while, until her parents started to shift uneasily. Laughing he let the girl go and turned to see Director Moore and several other people walking toward them, Karen and Robert were in the group, as well as Charles. They all looked like it just dawned on them that the Chambers might actually be leaving, possibly forever.
Moore spoke first. “Charlot, Scott... I know that this wasn't a good experience for any of us, but don't you think that we should wait and let calmer heads prevail?”
Brian stepped in front of Prime, an aura of black pooling around his whole body, but he faced the other group and shook his head.
“No. Really, right now, we're not going to get cooler heads. If they stay the night somebody's probably going to die. Since I keep stepping in front of people like this, that's probably going to be me. So... I
'm just deciding that's not going to happen. We need transportation, a hotel room, make that two hotel rooms, and cash. I don't care if you have to take up a collection from people's pockets. Don't argue with me on this one.” He didn't sound any particular way, he could hear himself. If anything he sounded a bit flat, almost emotionless. Certainly not angry or anything.
All of the men in the other group took a step back from him, only Karen holding her ground, knowing that he wouldn't hurt them just for being annoying, at least he hoped that's why she didn't back up. She looked at the others, standing almost dead even with her now, since she'd been slightly back before.
“I think we can manage that. Let's see what we can come up with, all right? It should only take a bit.” Turning to the others she waved them back with both hands and went to search for phone numbers and the needed funds.
Charlot looked at Brian, her eyes hooding a little bit, a sense of a predator stalking him for a moment came and went. Moving to him carefully she pulled him into a hug, which Bridget joined after a moment, to his surprise Scott, wrapping them all in his arms. They all held this for a couple of minutes, Charlot and Bridget crying softly and clinging as if their lives depended on it. Finally they all let go when a car pulled around, an agent Brian had talked to earlier, but didn't know by name. He got out and left the door of the car open.
“There are two hotel rooms for you at the Ridgemont in town. On the front seat is two thousand cash, and of course your credit line is still open, Director Moore didn't know if any of you would have your own cards on you, so he sent his. If you need anything, you have my number. Lancaster sent his card along too, specifically for Bridget,” He passed her a business card. “If you need anything, ask. We're still your people Scott, Charlot, as pissed as you all are. Don't forget that.” The man held out a hand, which each of them shook in turn, then walked away, more than a bit stiff and uncomfortable looking.
A small hand found his.
“Brian... come with us?” Bridget's voice sounded as meek as any he'd ever heard, but he had to shake his head.
“Sorry, I have some things to clean up here. Do me a favor and try to stay local for a few days? We aren't even halfway to finding who did this yet and may need your help, all of you. Scott... your mom, is she around at all?” He hesitated to ask this, not certain if the woman was even still alive.
“Arizona. Why?”
“Well, I can't tell you just yet, but she may be able to help us get to the bottom of who did this, maybe not, but... I guess I just wanted to check and make sure that everything is all right between you. I mean, if she comes here, is that OK?” Knowing his own parents wouldn't come if he needed them, Brian didn't want to presume anything about anyone else's.
Scott looked at him, confusion on his face for a bit, then let his golden face relax.
“Yeah, it might be good to have her around for a bit. I don't have the number on me, and my address book is in on my desk, under the collapsed part of the building I'd bet.”
Bridget knew it by heart. “I call her every week, sometimes more. We talk about stuff, boys and what I want to be when I grow up, knife fighting, things like that.”
Sighing he watched them leave, making sure he kept the phone number in mind clearly the whole time, a trick he'd learned as a kid that had served him well in life. Brian walked back into the compound and found Karen and Marcia with Lancaster next to the Director, who spoke on the phone about arranging housing for as many people as possible. Even though Brian had never seen them before, seven buses, white with blue trim on them and dark tinted windows drove up and parked, waiting for people to load up. The first round was all made up of civilian employees, with only a few staying behind with the agents and trainers, all of whom were also agents it turned out, the key staff, whatever that was, and of course, all of the operatives. In general no one wanted to try and send nearly eighty Infected anywhere at once right now, even if they could find accommodations. It was doable with the Chambers, but they looked “good”. Trying it with Lobo, Dave and Lauren would probably cause a scene.
They'd have to sleep outside. Some of the people wanted to go use their own beds but Brian stepped forward and told them all they couldn't do that.
“Look, the building is probably fine – unless it isn't – in that case the whole thing could collapse at any time. Someone sneezes in the wrong place or someone bumps into a wall or something. We have to stay out as much as possible until a structural engineer or better yet a team of them, tell us it's safe. If we have to go in for anything we should send as few people as possible and if my vote counts we only send in Mark.”
Time not passing for him meant a building simply couldn't fall down around his ears when in stasis time. It could become important. There were some drawbacks, computers and machines didn't run at all and objects couldn't move unless Mark got close to them and used mental tricks to allow himself to relax enough to extend his field away from his body. He'd learned, from what he'd told Brian about it at least, to bend and shape this field a bit, but it still wasn't right for taking any other people with him yet. Mark could carry them like luggage, but he couldn't let them walk on their own. Which was a bit of a shame really. Everyone around them either knew this already or simply agreed that they personally shouldn't have to go into the unstable structure, but Mark didn't seem to mind overly, even if it did mean walking up and down all those stairs.
After a few minutes, the Director got off the phone finally and walked over to Brian, not looking overly pleased.
“Brian, you're being a little... bossy for one of the new people here, don't you think?” His voice sounded serious, but his eyes held a hint of a smile.
“Yeah, I am. Sorry about that. I'm going to be doing that for a bit longer though. You mentioned Scott's mom. She may be able to help us with... Well, things. I don't know what I'm allowed to say or not. What you and I talked about in the hospital room? Plus, if we bring her in it may allow those three to feel a little more comfortable here with us. Not that I blame them for leaving, but I don't think we can afford to let them go without at least trying to fix things. So, if that seems like a good idea, can I borrow your phone?”
The older man handed it over, a tiny phone that didn't even have buttons, just a touch screen, it took Brian a second, and three tries, but finally the phone rang, and after three rings a sultry voice answered.
“Hello?”
Chapter fourteen
The voice sounded smoky and warm, relaxed and at home with itself, even if the phone call came from a stranger. It sure as heck beat the rasp that his own voice had become over the last few months. It didn't have any magic quality, but sounded a little like what Brian would have expected from a phone sex operator. Sexy or sultry, one of those kind of things that he'd almost forgotten could exist in the world. For a second he wondered if he'd accidentally gotten the wrong number.
“Um, hi, this is Brian Yi, I'm not sure if I got the right number... is this...” Brian realized that the woman's name wouldn't really be Foggy, but he'd never heard another one for her. Becky chuckled in his ear, standing beside him suddenly.
“Rachel Chambers” The ghost girl smiled and gave him a wink, probably because she once again knew something he didn't.
“Um, Rachel Chambers? Bridget's grandmother?”
“Oh! Yes, you must be that Brian then! Bridgie's told me a lot about you. Is everything all right?” Her voice sounded a bit concerned, which given everything made a lot of sense, and sent Brian scrambling.
“Oh! Important stuff first, sorry! Yes, everyone is all right. Scott, Bridget and Charlot are all a little banged up, but nothing that needs a hospital, I don't think. There's been a problem here...”
The voice took a deep sounding breath that shuddered on the way out and went silent for a minute.
“Is anyone dead?” The words were soft and dark, as if fearing the worse.
“Not today. In fact the first half of things seem to have been cleared up, they're all stay
ing at a hotel in town, The Ridgemont I think I heard, I can double check that for you in a minute. The thing is, well, there's two things really, first they kind of need a friendly face right now, which really is the most important thing, but... I don't know what I can say about the next bit over the phone and I can't provide any proof at all, but I think it's possible that some... old friends of yours might be behind this...”
She hesitated and then fished for more information, until finally Director Moore took the phone.
“Foggy? This is Less. It's them. This reeks of them...” Then the man immediately put the phone back in his hand.
“Right, so, it's them. At least it might be. What I'd like, if your able and willing, is to have you come up and visit as soon as possible. I'll cover your expenses myself if you want. Again, I can't prove anything, but even if it's just coming up for Bridget and Scott, it's worth it.”
Diving in he told the whole story, the suspicions, the video, the fight and the damage from it. The line went silent as he spoke. A rustling and crackling sound on the other side, as if something was being shifted, a sound of fabric and fasteners. After a few moments the line came alive again, the voice sounding a lot more practical suddenly.
“I'll be there in six hours. Can I get a car from there to this hotel?”
“I'll make it happen. Thank you...”
The line went dead suddenly. Handing the phone back to Moore, Brian told him the situation and requested a car be ready for them to take the woman to the Ridgemont when she got in as directly as possible. A man standing next to Moore raised an eyebrow, but made a note of it on a small hand held computer. He'd started out in a suit, clearly, but had taken the tie off and loosened the top button, smudges of dust and grease or something on his jacket, which he kept on, for warmth most likely, the night air starting to get a bit cool.