Ricnor took a deep breath and pressed “Connect.” The vidcon dialed, connected, made three short clicking noises, and then disconnected. That was the signal that his call had been received. The Master would call him back when he deemed it appropriate to grant Ricnor an audience. Ricnor no longer questioned the process, or even gave it a second thought. That’s just the way it worked.
A light flashed on the vidcon, but it was too soon for the Master; this was an internal signal.
Ricnor pressed the button and Gruleg’s face, disgusting as it was, filled the screen.
“I thought I made it clear I wasn’t to be disturbed,” said Ricnor, showing his razor sharp teeth and making it clear he was in no mood for his orders to be questioned.
“Yes sir,” said Gruleg, “but I thought you might want to know that the prisoners have figured out that whoever tampered with the vehicle works at Galacticount.”
“It’s not your place to think, Gruleg,” said Ricnor with a snarl. “Interrupt me again and what’s left of you will be Clelchin snack food. Now do as you were told, record their every word and movement, and don’t interrupt me again.”
He turned off the vidcon before the befuddled Gruleg could say another word. His second-in-command had done the right thing by passing on this information, it was something the Master was sure to want to know, but he couldn’t allow Gruleg, or anyone else, to blatantly disobey an order of his. Discipline had to be maintained or the gang’s entire structure would collapse. Gruleg would understand. Too bad if he didn’t.
Another light flashed on the vidcon. This time it was the Master. Ricnor steadied himself, bowed his head, and answered. It didn’t matter that the Master used audio only, he knew when he was being given the proper respect and when he wasn’t, regardless of whether he could see Ricnor or not.
“Master,” he said, face to the table, not daring to speak directly into the vidcon.
“Ricnor,” said a voice the gang leader knew only as the Master, even though it was clearly an electronic manipulation of his true voice, “you have news for me?”
“Yes, Master. Qilzar and Lhvunsa are captive, but …”
“But Gsefx is causing you problems. Is that your news?”
“Yes, Master.” By now, Ricnor was no longer surprised when the Master knew things he couldn’t possibly know.
“Go on, tell me everything.”
“Yes, Master.”
Ricnor told him everything. How Gsefx had bested Klarnus and Dilnch, and had then taken them captive along with one of his vehicles, complete with a full cache of weapons. How he’d negotiated a new deal and was now on his way to Earth to collect the paintings. As much as he despised showing weakness, he also admitted to the Master that he was unsure about what to expect when they met to make the exchange. His preference would be to have Klarnus and Dilnch simply kill him, but he didn’t believe they were capable. He believed Gsefx would be too much for them.
While he was clear about the things that had gone wrong, he wasn’t ready to take responsibility for them.
“With respect, Master, this job was never going to be as simple as I was originally told, was it?”
“Why Ricnor, if I didn’t know better, I’d say you were questioning my judgment,” said the Master, a touch of humor coming through the electronic voice.
“I would never question your judgment, Master. I simply asked if you provided me with all of the information I required to carry out this job.”
“Very well,” said the Master, the humor gone from his voice, “you are correct, Ricnor. I did not tell you everything. My hope was that you’d be able to handle it anyway. Unfortunately, I was wrong. No matter. We are no worse off than if you had known the details, and I have every faith in your ability to control the situation.”
“Thank you, Master. Can you provide any further details that may be of assistance?”
There was a brief silence as the Master contemplated his answer.
“You said that Gsefx programmed his own DNA into the weapons on your ship and also increased the power output of his own scrambler, correct?”
“Yes Master.”
“And what does that tell you, Ricnor?”
“That he knows his way around weaponry. But, why would an accountant be that familiar with weapons? It doesn’t make sense, unless it’s just a hobby.”
“Or, that his expertise isn’t specific to weapons, but to electronics in general.”
Ricnor looked up at the blank screen, a startled look on his face.
“Yes, of course, that makes sense.”
“Is there anything else? I have other business to attend to.”
“Yes, Master, one other thing. We have been monitoring Qilzar and Lhvunsa in their cell, and they have been retracing Qilzar’s abduction.”
“Go on.”
“They believe they’ve tracked down an accomplice to his abduction to someone inside Galacticount.”
Another brief silence.
“Have they mentioned any names?”
“Not yet, Master.”
“Cease all monitoring immediately. Do you understand? Immediately!”
“Yes, Master.”
“And separate them. Why in the galaxy did you ever put them in the same cell to begin with?”
“They weren’t on speaking terms at the time, so it didn’t seem to matter.”
“Clearly they’ve patched things up, haven’t they? Get the paintings, Ricnor. Get the paintings, then kill them. Kill them all.”
The vidcon went dead. The Master was gone.
“Yes, Master,” snarled Ricnor to the blank screen, the earlier subservience gone now as his lips curled into a most unattractive sneer. Something had just changed in his relationship with the Master, something Ricnor liked.
The Master was more than angry, he thought, he was scared. Scared his identity might be revealed.
Ricnor dialed up Gruleg.
“Yes, Boss?” said his second-in-command as he appeared on the vidcon screen.
“Gruleg, don’t you take your eyes or ears away from the prisoners, not even for a byt.”
“Yes, Boss!”
“No one else but you or I will monitor them, and you will report what you see and hear only to me. Are we clear?”
“Yes, Boss!”
Ricnor switched off the vidcon and allowed himself to do something that had been unthinkable for countless turns. He dreamed of the time, perhaps not far from now, when he would take back control of his gang and be rid of the precious Master.
Chapter 43
Thanks Dad … I Think
“No Senator, that won’t be necessary,” said Alcorn with a sigh. This was his tenth and most tedious call of the day. He’d been on with Senator Jasper from Montana for nearly an hour and, for the life of him, Alcorn still didn’t know why they were speaking at all, other than it apparently made the Senator feel particularly powerful to have a four-star general at his beck and call. Alcorn didn’t care much for the game of politics, though he played it well enough. You didn’t climb as high as he had on merit alone.
“I assure you Senator, we have the situation well in hand. I’ve already briefed Secretary Langhorne and the Joint Chiefs.”
He noticed the blue light over his office door begin to flash. That was Janny’s gentle way of telling him dinner was ready and it was time to excuse himself from his duties for a while.
“Senator, I apologize, but I have another call coming in and I do have to take it. I’ve enjoyed our conversation immensely and look forward to speaking with you again, soon.”
A brief pause as he waited for the senator to respond.
“Yes, and to you as well, sir. Give my best to Caroline. Yes sir, I will. Goodbye, now.”
He hung up the phone, exhausted and hungry, but hesitant. He knew Theo would be at the dinner table. He missed his son and longed to see him, but he didn’t miss the anger and awkwardness that always dominated their relationship. Now, more than ever, he needed to think clear
ly in order to assess the potential non-terrestrial threat against the U.S., perhaps even the entire planet, and develop an action plan to present to Langhorne and the Security Council. If the work he’d done this day, all of the phone calls, briefings, and glad-handing had helped clarify anything for him, it was that he couldn’t let his relationship with Theo cloud his thinking and his judgment, which was exactly what it would do if he wasn’t careful. He took a few deep breaths to gather himself, then stood up and walked to the dining room.
Janny and Theo were already seated when Alcorn walked in to join them.
“Well, well, something smells delicious,” he said, doing his best to put on an air of joviality as he made his way to the table.
“Lasagna,” said Janny. “Theo’s favorite, and yours too, if I’m not mistaken.”
“It most certainly is,” he said. He put his hands on Theo’s shoulders. “You’re looking well, Theo. It’s good to see you.”
“You too, Dad. I see you’re still working as hard as ever; even wearing camos in the house. I guess some things never change.”
That didn’t take long, thought Alcorn, unsurprised.
“The Army’s still paying me son,” he said before he could stop himself. “They still expect me to put in a full day—in uniform. That doesn’t change just because I’m getting close to retirement.”
“That’s not what I meant,” said Theo. “Dammit Dad, why do you twist everything I say into something else.”
“Well maybe if …”
“Enough you two,” said Janny. “Let’s eat before the food gets cold.”
“Your mother is right, Theo,” said Alcorn. “Let’s not fight.”
“Fine with me,” said the boy, who Alcorn realized was rapidly approaching thirty, and no longer a boy. Theo held his plate out while Janny filled it with lasagna. “Thanks Mom,” he said.
“Of course,” said Janny, with the ever-present smile she used when she was trying to reunite the two of them. “Why don’t you tell your father about your news?”
“I already told you, Mom,” said Theo, “Dad isn’t interested in that kind of stuff.”
“Go ahead and tell him,” insisted Janny, “you might be surprised.”
“You know, I’m sitting right here,” said Alcorn, holding out his plate.
“Go on, Theo,” said Janny, “tell him.”
“Okay,” said Theo, with a shrug of his shoulders, “but don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“You shall remain blameless,” said Alcorn. “Now let’s hear it.”
“Well, the University recently received a collection of paintings on loan from the Louvre. That’s in Paris, Dad.”
“Thanks, Theo, I know where the Louvre is,” said Alcorn dryly. “Believe it or not, I even know what the Louvre is.” He took a bite of lasagna before continuing. “Congratulations son, that’s quite a coup. What are the paintings?”
“It’s not so much about the actual paintings themselves,” said Theo, the excitement in his voice unmistakable. “It’s about the artist. It’s a collection of works by Raffaello Sanzio, who’s better known as Raphael. It’s an opportunity to study the works of one of the greatest artists in history, up close, and with no restrictions. It’s the chance of a lifetime.”
Alcorn watched his son’s enthusiasm grow with every word he spoke. He watched the young man’s eyes sparkle at the prospect of examining the paintings of some guy who’d been dead for five hundred years. He didn’t understand what it was that drew his son toward the arts, but he understood the compulsion, a desire that is so strong it overrides everything else in your life. That’s what led him into the Army. How could he deny his son that same joy, even if his pursuit was something he himself couldn't understand?
“That’s amazing son,” he said quietly. He reached out and squeezed Theo’s shoulder. “Congratulations.”
“Thanks Dad,” said Theo, a confused look on his face. “I think.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means, Dad, that throughout my entire life, you’ve never shown any interest in me or the things I love, so forgive me if I’m a little confused when you suddenly get all excited about my work.”
Alcorn looked down at his mostly uneaten plate of lasagna, trying to keep it together. This is where things always seemed to go south between them. After a moment, he set his fork down looked back up at his son.
“Theo, you hold a Ph.D. in Art History and have gained a level of respect within your field that is unheard of your age. You’re not even thirty yet and are considered one of the foremost art experts on the entire eastern seaboard, if not the whole U.S. of A. And now, you have an opportunity to examine the paintings of Raphael? Now, I don’t know about you, but those sound like pretty damn good credentials to me. So what confuses the hell out of me … what I can’t seem to put my finger on, is why you continue to worry, even one little bit, about what I think. Clearly, I wasn’t the father you think I should have been. Hell, I wasn’t the father I think I should have been, but right now, that’s neither here nor there. You have to stop living in the past, son, and start looking ahead. Theo, you have a bright future ahead of you. Don’t screw it up by letting memories of a past, which neither of us can do anything about, get the better of you.”
He held his son’s eyes for a moment longer, then went back to eating his dinner.
“Now, what’s the latest with you and Cheryl?” said Alcorn, in between bites of lasagna. “The last I heard, the two of you were getting pretty serious.”
“We broke up,” said Theo quietly, not looking up from his plate.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” said Alcorn. “What happened?”
“I’d rather not talk about it.”
The rest of the meal went on, more or less, in silence, broken up by the occasional attempt by Alcorn or Janny to start a conversation, only to have it quickly and quietly rebuffed by their only son.
“Very good meal, Janny,” said Alcorn finally, pushing away from the table when the last of his plate was clean. “I’m headed out to the barn for a while. Don’t wait up. No telling how long I’ll be out there.”
“No dessert?” asked Janny. “I made bread pudding.”
“No thank you,” said Alcorn, standing up. “I couldn’t eat another bite. I’ll bet Theo will have some though. Your bread pudding was always his favorite.”
Theo didn’t say a word, but remained quietly looking down. Alcorn walked out of the room, grabbing his jacket on the way outside. The cold night air felt good after the stuffiness of the dining room.
What the hell was that? He thought as he walked toward the barn. What were you thinking? You’re supposed to be trying to fix things with Theo, not make things worse.
“What the hell was that?” came a voice from behind, echoing his own thoughts. If he hadn’t known his wife so well, the voice might have startled him. He turned back to see Janny standing by the back door, hands on her hips. “I thought you were going to talk to him, not give him one of your standard lectures and then clam up.”
“Janny, I’m not in the mood,” he said. He turned and started back toward the barn.
“Don’t you walk away from me, Teddy,” said Janny, coming closer. “I want to know just what in the hell you plan to do to make things right with your son?”
Alcorn turned back to face his wife, a flood of emotions threatening to erupt from where they boiled incessantly, just below the surface of his well-practiced façade.
“Janny, I meant what I said in there. As much as I might want to, I can’t change the past. I can’t go back in time and become a better father to that little boy. He’s gone. But the man he’s become has so much potential, I can’t even imagine. But he has to let go of his anger toward me and everything he blames me for. It’s time for him to start realizing that what he’s already accomplished, he did in spite of my poor parenting and that he can do so much more, if only he will let go.”
Janny frowned back at her husband.
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“That sounds like nothing but a big cop-out, if you ask me,” she said. She immediately held her hands up to ward off any response. “Be that as it may, I’m not going to argue that point with you right now. We’ve gone down that road too many times to spend any more energy on it tonight. What I am wondering, though, is why you didn’t ask him to take a look at Henry’s paintings while he’s here? I thought you were at least smart enough to get his help on that?”
“He has his new project at the University, the Raphael study. Did you see how excited he was? I don’t want to take him away from that.”
“I saw,” she said, giving him a look that made him think he might be more in the clear with her than she was letting on. “But how would you be taking him away from that project if he looks at Henry’s paintings while he’s here? It’s not like he’d be giving up one for the other.”
Now it was Alcorn’s turn to give his wife a look.
“I may not know much about art, but I do know you, and Theo, better than you might think. I watched you while you were examining Henry’s paintings and I know for a fact you did more than just glance over them for a few minutes before going back into the house to work on something else.”
Janny looked away.
“Janny, look at me. How many hours did you spend looking at Henry’s paintings?”
Janny turned back and met Alcorn’s eyes.
“I don’t know … maybe ten or so.”
Alcorn frowned and tilted his head, but didn’t break eye contact.
“Okay, okay, it was probably more like twenty … five … or thirty … maybe more.”
“There you have it,” said Alcorn. “If you spent that much time, how much more do you think Theo would? One project would, in fact, force him to give up the other. I won’t put him in that position … and neither will you.”
Janny reached up and put her arms around her husband.
“I love you, Teddy.”
“I mean it, Janny. Do not say anything to Theo about the paintings.”
“I won’t, I promise. Now kiss me before I freeze to death out here.”
Your Truth is Out There (Find Your Truth Book 1) Page 18