by Robert Clark
The large oil painting of the young Maddox Cage looked down on me with an air of mild discontent as though the man painted had known that someone would be intruding on his business all these decades later. I shooed him away and looked around. Cage’s desk was a thing of beauty. A large mahogany piece that could easily be a few centuries old, I couldn’t help but admire the intricate detail that adorned the edges and legs.
Behind it sat a grand chair that definitely sat closer to the throne category than general office item. I walked around the desk to grasp its splendour, which was when it happened. The itch in the back of my mind. The Wolf latching onto something out of place. Just like in the cave last night, he drew my attention away from the desk and up towards the painting.
‘Does that seem off to you?’ he asked.
‘Off?’
‘Yes, genius. Off. As in, not in the right place.’
And the more I looked at it, the more I agreed with him. The painting hung off the wall, but it was slightly off centre, like something had got stuck behind it and pulled it out from the wall by a fraction. I moved over to it. Inspected the discrepancy.
Then I pulled it further.
The painting swung aside with ease, taking with it the two brackets that held it in place, and exposing what hid behind it. A safe. Not the kind you might find in a bank, but by that same token, not the kind you might find in some overzealous guy’s closet. It was somewhere in between. A medium-sized safe. Big enough to climb inside. A bit on the small side to store the contents of Fort Knox. It had a blue marble colour to it that seemed strangely clashing to the rest of Cage’s office. And like the bunker door I’d opened last night, it had a wheel handle slightly off skew to the left-hand side. But unlike the bunker door, a sleek combination dial sat right next to it.
I guessed Cage wasn’t the kind of guy to go so far as to hide a safe behind a painting, yet leave the thing unlocked, but I gave it a try, anyway. It didn’t budge. I also pegged him as the sort of man to memorise the combination. I swung the painting back into place and edged away. It looked like nothing had happened. No tampering whatsoever.
As I looked at the painting, the door swung open, and the man himself stormed into the room. He stopped short of bowling me over.
‘Stone,’ he said, slightly out of breath. ‘I wasn’t expecting you.’
‘I know. And I’m sorry for letting myself in. I don’t know where you live, or hang out, or anything really.’
‘My room is upstairs. This is my home,’ he said, making no attempt to mask the pride in his voice, ‘and I seldom have time for recreation here. That’s not what Second Solace is about.’ He closed the door behind him, and I caught a flash of Cece stranded on the other side before it closed. Cage sidestepped me and sat down behind his desk. After he gestured for me to sit too, he spoke again. ‘What can I help you with?’
‘A couple of things,’ I said. ‘But I’ll start with an update.’
Cage clapped his hands together.
‘Don’t get your hopes up,’ I insisted. ‘It’s not exactly progress. I’m having trouble locating the Dawsons. I spoke to the woman who runs the general store, and she said they work with Cece up in the mountains.’
‘That dawned on me too after you had left,’ Cage sighed. ‘I apologise. I should have thought of it sooner. Then perhaps you wouldn’t have wasted a day following a dead end.’
‘Can I ask, what is it Cece is working on up there?’
‘You can ask,’ Cage replied. ‘But don’t expect an answer. I’m sorry, James. We have a lot on our plate at the moment, and I can’t have anyone running around, potentially causing problems. You included. You’ll have to forgive me on this.’
‘If it’s so important, and the Dawsons are working on it, surely you need to make sure they can be trusted first, right?’
‘Stone, I get where you’re coming from. But I can’t. It’s not my place to say. Cecilia is in charge up there, and I trust her with my life. It wouldn’t be right of me to divulge without her say so. And right now, there’s a better chance of me becoming President of the United States than there is of Cecilia letting you in.’
‘Can’t you give me anything?’ I asked. ‘A ballpark answer, maybe? If it’s not important to my investigation, I don’t have to worry about it, right?’
Cage leaned back in his throne and rubbed his fingers together in deep thought. Maybe I imagined it, but I felt like I could feel Cece’s stare through the closed door.
‘We are working on a deterrent,’ Cage said finally. ‘Purely a defensive measure, lest someone come up here and try to take our home away from us. That’s all I can say, so don’t ask for more information. Maybe one day I’ll be able to tell you more. But not today.’
A deterrent?
‘Okay,’ I said. ‘Second question.’
‘Fire away.’
‘What happened to the others?’
Cage frowned.
‘What others?’
‘The people who left. Gail told me something happened and a section of your people left. She said they didn’t like the way things were going.’
He shuffled some more in his seat. Bunched up his shoulders and brought his hands together like a man backed into a corner.
‘Why d'you ask?’ he grunted.
‘Because you told me someone tried to kill Corser, and I saw one of your men try to kill me. It seems to me like the kind of person who does that might be the sort of person who didn’t feel too strongly about their leader anymore. The kind of person who might once have left, then decided they wanted Second Solace for themselves.’
‘Not possible,’ Cage huffed. ‘It’s sound logic, but it just ain’t possible.’
‘Why not?’
‘It’s confidential. Need to know basis only.’
I got up from my chair. Cage half moved too, another defensive measure.
‘What’re you doing?’ he barked.
‘I’m leaving Second Solace,’ I replied.
‘Why?’
‘Because you’ve pissed me off, Maddox. You brought me here against my will. Demeaned me with your little trial. Then asked for my help, only to stonewall me at every path. I’m done with it. I didn’t have to help you. I did it because I thought you might actually be worth helping. But if you won’t trust me with anything, then I’m wasting my time here.’
I turned to leave. Made it all the way to the door. Then he spoke. Just like I knew he would.
‘Sit down,’ he barked, but it was more like a sigh than a command. I let him stew for a moment, then I returned to my seat. ‘What you need to understand is that we built this place for a purpose,' Cage said. 'There was a vision in mind. A common goal amongst all of us. Everyone who pitched in knew the endgame. “Imperium In Imperio”. Do you know what that means?’
‘Power within power.’
‘Exactly. A state within a state. That's how we started it. That's what we have written over the goddamn door. We wanted to create a brand new state that would outlast the others. The way I saw it, we would achieve this through continued progress, and learning from humanity's mistakes. That's the key. Learning. Not blindly ignoring and pretending like they don't exist.’
His heavy eyes watched me. I could practically feel the weight of them on my shoulders.
‘Picture this, Stone,’ he continued. ‘Two people walking opposite ways along a path spot a number on the floor. One man sees a six. The other sees a nine. Which one is right?’
‘It's hard to tell,' I said. 'It could be either.’
‘Exactly. It could be either, but it isn't. It's one or the other. Some people would say it doesn't matter. They'd say both answers are right. But those people are goddamn fools. They are mollycoddling a generation of idiots. Someone came along and wrote either a six or a nine on the ground. They had a definitive number in mind. The right answer would be to assess the situation as a whole. Are there any other numbers on the ground nearby that would show which way the guy was going? That k
ind of thing. But no, some people don't want to do the work. They aren't willing to do the research. They just want to be right.’
‘Your point being?’ I asked.
‘Not everyone can be right. Not everyone can ignore the research and choose their own truth. That's what happened here. We started with our goal to create a new, sustainable homeland that didn't fall into the same traps that the rest of society has. The way we do that is by observing the path, and finding out the right way to go instead of heading blindly in the wrong direction. That was my aim. And that was the problem for the others.’
Cage got up out of his chair and absentmindedly ran his finger across the frame of his grandiose oil painting.
‘We used to be much bigger,’ he mused, ‘and we were growing by the year. I was a little worried at first, I thought we were diluting our resolve, but in the end I was wrong about that too. I started to notice a rift between the people. There was a group, close to fifty people I'd say. They didn't like that we used electricity to power our lights, and favoured vehicle for labour instead of horseback. They wanted an authentic experience, like the way we used to live back in the day. At first, I just used to block them out. It's a sizeable settlement. We get people bitching and moaning about this and that every day. It's commonplace. But then, they got louder. Started organising work strikes and causing fights. That was when I started to take them seriously, but it was too late for salvation.’
He stared up into the eyes of his former, immortalised self and cast his mind back.
‘There was a revolution,’ he said. ‘They tried to take me down by force so they could start over once more. I wasn't willing to let them take my legacy, so we fought back. Things got messy. People died. Our side managed to get the advantage, and we called an end to the bloodshed. But I wasn't willing to let those people live in harmony amongst my own. We banished them.’
He turned his eyes back to me, looking at my face like I was a long lost friend. It lasted only a moment before he snapped back to attention.
‘We haven't had any contact with them since they left,’ he said. ‘They took only the clothes on their back. Their choice, not ours. They didn't want anything tainted by this place.’
‘So why do you think they’re not involved?’ I asked.
‘Didn't you listen to the story, James? They don't want what we have. They want something pure and animalistic. And even if they did, they don't have the right tools. They don't use guns. That's too modern for their kind.’
‘They didn't all those years ago,’ I said. ‘A lot can change in that time.’
‘I’m sure of it. They weren't involved.’
‘How? How can you be so sure?’
Cage didn't answer right away. His face scrunched up and his eyes narrowed.
‘I know them,’ he said eventually. ‘This isn't their M.O. They live close to a hundred miles away in small huts they built out of mud.’
‘They've proven before they're happy to fight for what they believe in. They could do it again. Going off gut instinct alone isn't a wise decision. There are too many variables to be able to say with complete certainty that it's not possible.’
Cage snorted, but his face wasn’t so convinced.
‘They could be working with someone here,’ I continued. ‘If there was anyone here who had turned against you, turned against your vision, or maybe had been a mole from the start, you can't rule that out.’
‘Goddamnit,’ Cage snarled. ‘But what are we supposed to do here? I can’t go round throwing false accusations at everyone.’
‘You could speak to them for a start?’ I replied. ‘Get the ball rolling with a little conversation, then see where it goes from there. Hell, they might confirm it outright and you’ve got your answer right there.’
‘Doing that wouldn't be simple,’ he said. ‘They don't use phones up there. We'd have to send someone to open a line of conversation.’
‘Do you know where they are?’ I asked.
Cage nodded.
‘I had my people keep tabs on them at first, just to make sure they didn’t mount a resistance. Unless they upped and left, I know where they are.’
‘We could go and see them ourselves?’ I suggested. ‘If time is of the essence, it might be the best option.’
And I can get you on your own. Accidents have been known to happen.
‘And you’re right, we’ll be walking into a trap,’ Cage said. ‘They’ll kill me where I stand.’
‘If the tables were turned, would you?’ I asked.
Cage said nothing.
‘They can’t risk it.’ I said. ‘They won’t know you’re coming. They won’t have prepared for it. So if they play their hand early, they could risk losing everything. They kill you, they’re effectively declaring war on Second Solace. Your supporters would burn through them like wildfire, and they know it. Killing you now would be suicide for them.’
Cage snorted again. His nostrils flared like a bull.
‘You better be right, Stone,’ he barked.
‘More often than not.’
A small smile crept across his face. He moved around the desk and slapped his massive hand on my shoulder.
‘Go get ready,’ he said. ‘We'll leave on the hour.’
And with that he stormed from the office.
Progress.
I didn't hang around to wait in the office. If we were making an impromptu trip, I needed to let Agents Miles and Whyte know I wasn't making a run for it. I headed out into the hallway. Cece wasn't there. Good. I hustled through the building and out into the morning sun.
The streets of Second Solace were much busier than I'd seen them before. Perhaps they didn't celebrate Christmas, but they'd definitely had a couple days rest. As I weaved my way back towards the satellite phone, I became increasingly aware of just how busy the place was. Kids played together, throwing snowballs back and forth from behind trees. Couples walked together, holding gloved hands and enjoying the stillness in the air. Guards patrolled the circuit, their weapons ever more present than I'd seen them before. All the while I could feel their eyes drifting across me. The riddle, wrapped in a mystery, inside an enigma walking amongst them. Making the call would be problematic.
I hung back from the spot the phone was buried. To my left, a group of teenagers stood around talking and throwing a football between one another. Straight ahead, two patrolling guards trudged slowly in my direction. Any attempt now would be foolish, but I knew I couldn’t leave Cage waiting. So I leaned up against a tree and stared up at the huge rock wall that stretched up beside me. In the light of day, I could make out the point where it started to become less of a terrifying drop onto jagged rocks. But that point was about one hundred foot above me. Only the most experienced of climbers would be comfortable with a challenge like that, and they wouldn’t manage it in a hurry.
The guards passed me by. I felt their eyes wander suspiciously over me, probably curious why the newcomer was eyeing up their defences. I paid them a gracious smile and an overtly polite good day, and returned to my viewing. Kill them with kindness.
That left the teenagers. They seemed in no hurry to leave, content with their little game of pass the ball. Which left me with a bit of a problem. I couldn’t spend the whole day staring up at the rocks. It would make me look suspicious. So I changed tactic.
I pushed myself off the tree and went to join them.
They noticed me coming and stopped their game with all the grace an awkward teen could muster. Four of them in total. Two boys, two girls, aged somewhere between twelve and sixteen. Probably not a lot of options to befriend people your own age here. The boy holding the ball was maybe the oldest of them. Under his woollen beanie, his long black hair stretched down to his eyes, and the faintest whim of a moustache adorned his top lip. I caught his eye and plastered a big smile across my face and waved. It had the desired effect of making them turn their backs on me and pretend I didn’t exist.
With their eyes awkwardly averted, I
knelt down beside the tree and pretended to tie my shoelaces. I thrust my hand into the snow and rummaged around for the phone. My fingers slipped around the plastic bag. I pulled it free and stuffed it under my coat, then hustled away. I couldn’t make the call in such a public area. Not at this hour.
Gail was out when I arrived at her home. The door was unlocked, but all the same I knocked to make sure no one was there. Then I went inside, closed the door behind me, and called out to be certain I was alone.
I took the phone up to my room, checking the surrounding areas to be triple certain. All clear. I shut my bedroom door and sat on the bed with the phone. Then I made the call.
I waited over a minute listening to the purr of an outgoing call. Thought about the signal shooting high into the sky, through the atmosphere, to connect to the satellite, then bouncing down to wherever in the world Agent Miles and Agent Whyte were. But there was no answer.
Where the hell were they? Why weren’t they answering? I kept the call going for another minute. There was no answer phone, not for a couple of rogue FBI agents with an off the books investigation. I listened to the satellite phone ring and ring into an empty void.
Nothing.
I hung up and looked at the phone. Checked the dials to make sure nothing had been moved by accident. Whyte had run me through the correct procedure before I left. He made sure I knew it off by heart. And what I was looking at was exactly what I was supposed to be. Nothing out of place. Nothing broken.
I tried the line again and waited for nearly ten minutes listening to absolutely jack shit. I moved around, unsure if the line couldn’t connect indoors. I opened the window and leaned out just enough to make sure. Still nothing. I triple checked the phone and tried again. The ongoing purr of the phone sounded mocking, like it was choosing to be truculent over establishing a connection. I slapped it against my palm and tried again, and again, and again.
Nothing.
I ran my finger over the small lump behind my ear. The tracking device lay just beneath the skin, like a constant reminder that I was in this till the bitter end. But if I suddenly started moving away from Second Solace, my little dot on the map would be all the evidence Miles and Whyte needed to put a bullet through Sophie’s head. It wouldn’t matter what excuses I made. They would see it as a direct show of disobedience.