“Why the hell are you taking my class?” scoffed the
instructor for Theodore's emergency medicine class as he took his seat on
Monday.
“Um, because putting someone in spot stasis only prolongs
the inevitable. At some point you still have to brush your fur, straighten
your tail and deal with their wounds. I could keep them that way for a day,
max. And the more people, the shorter the time.”
His instructor nodded, “Okay, I did not know about any of
the particulars of that. Have you been back to the hospital?”
“No, sir. It is a media madhouse there.”
“After this class we'll see about getting someone to fly
you there that way you can skip the vultures. There are a lot of people that
want to shake your hand.”
“How many survived?”
“All four look like they may make it. Several may need an
artificial limb or two, but are alive. And that is all due to you. Had they
had to wait for the ambulance and then to get back to the trauma center, none
would have made it.”
“I had help. I had a lot of good people who helped
getting them out. Digging through the wreckage and the blood...”
He laughed, “Several of those others there on the ground
would like to meet you, too! You made a heck of an impression. Especially on
that young family you jumped off the side with.”
Theodore sighed, “There were so many we didn't get out...”
“And now comes the hard part for you: the self-guilt for
those you didn't save even though you went above and beyond what
anyone
could have expected. The hard part for the young family: survivors guilt.
Keeping the family together will help a lot with that. If you ever need to
talk to any of our counselors, their doors are open.”
“I appreciate that.”
“Alright then, off to today's topic: burn victims.”
Ugh! It was going to be a long class.
Theodore took the offered flight and flew downtown to
visit the hospital. He didn't really want to be there, but friends and family
of the survivors desperately wanted to meet him. He was pleased that hospital
security kept the media clear; he wasn't a rock star, he was a student just
trying to get by. Crap! He forgot completely about the meeting with the
Federal Police. It was a given they knew why he didn't make it. They'd just
have to reschedule and try again. Hopefully someplace closer this time.
There was absolutely no concept of personal space as the
various family members descended upon Theodore, blubbering mightily. He didn't
mind, he knew that they needed to blubber, get it out of their systems. He
returned hugs when offered and did his best to be himself even as people tried
to put him up on a pedestal.
After two emotionally grueling hours, Theodore had met all
of the families and friends of the wounded survivors and took a small break
room and tried to grab a bite to eat when he was suddenly mobbed by the young
family that he had taken along on that fateful plunge. With the swarm of wide
eyed children around him he soon found himself on the floor at their level
laughing and crying with them all.
“Why did you save us?” asked the bright eyed human girl of
about four. “You could have saved the pretty lady across from us...”
“I saved you because you all reminded me of my little
sisters. I wanted to save them all, but...” it was his turn to start
blubbering.
The young mother of the children sat with Theodore and
held him tight as he finally vented
his
frustration of the entire
fiasco. There had been more in the car. If he had herded more of them
together, could he have saved more? That self-guilt his instructor had warned
him about hours early washed over him like a tidal wave. But there in those
cold waters of questioning and self-doubt were the bright faces of those
youngsters. Wide-eyed and looking upon the world with a second chance of life,
he had a hard time feeling bad about the choices he made.
“Come on,” finally offered the young mother. “He needs to
get back to
his
home and we need to get you home so you are still ready
for school tomorrow.”
Theodore shared one last hug with the family and they
finally departed. He just sat there and was soaking it all in when a sinister
voice caught up with him.
“You are a truly remarkable young man.”
“Excuse me?” fired Theodore over his shoulder to the voice
in the distance.
“Born under a lucky star?”
“One makes their own luck,” replied Theodore as he stood
and tried to get a better view of the person in question. “My father taught me
that much.”
There was an honest laugh, “Your father taught you
very
well! But now it seems after all is said and done, I have a little
problem.”
Theodore could barely make the man, tall, in a dark trench
coat, smoking a cigar. “Well, your first problem is you can't read. This
whole building is a non-smoking area.”
A second laugh marched down the hall, “Oh you Taiks do
have sharp eyes. A human would not have picked out so well in the dark.”
“I'd say humans have
sharper
eyes; we just see
better in the dark. If the HVAC had been set the other direction, I would have
smelled you earlier yet. But I don't think we're here to discuss comparative
anatomy.”
“No. No, indeed.” The man took a long drag on his cigar,
“Dr. Barvelt had the common decency to die when
he
was in a car wreck.
But, oh no. Not only do you survive, you had to go all noble and rescue a
family and bunch of crash victims on live news.”
“That wreck was staged?” Theodore's blood started to
boil.
“Of
course
it was staged! Do you know how many
safeties have to be off line to get two cars aimed at each other much less with
the emergency brakes disabled? That took quite a bit of setup, but Telmark was
able to pull it off admirably.”
“Agent Telmark was involved?” Theodore deflated. Surely
this was some form of mind game.
“It was a simple
quid pro quo
really. We ratted
out a large portion of our own competition, and he arranged for you to die in a
horrible accident.” There was a tense pause as the man took another long
drag. “Problem is, you survived. Not only did you survive but you are now a
bit of a hero, too! If something happens to people in the limelight then there
are a lot of questions. Never good for subtlety. Oh well, Telmark won't have
to worry about those anymore.”
“You killed him...”
“No, it was a suicide!” the man laughed. “Upset that he
almost got you killed, he couldn't take it anymore and jumped from his
thirtieth floor flat. He didn't land nearly as well as you did...”
“What is this even all about?” Theodore was angry,
afraid, confused...
The man just laughed, “You never did know, did you? Oh
well, that little bit can gnaw on you for the rest of your short life. Kill
him, boy!”
Theodore had expected to suddenly find himself being raked
with machine-gun fire again. But no, they had learned a bit at least. He
cringed as he caught the sparkling blue flash out of the corner of his eye.
They had brought someone along that knew how to play with Live Steel!
A Taik in his early twenties with a spotted sandy coat
moved into the open with his Live Steel long sword glinting in the artificial
light. “This isn't for points, kid. It's for real. Know how to play for
keeps?”
Theodore's fur spiked as his mind raced: sword in his left
hand...south-western accent... they tended to be prone to close armor work and
grappling... that means... that means nothing! Don't over analyze... Theodore
let out a slow breath and felt his fur start to relax. “Is this something
political or purely about cash?”
The Taik laughed, “Cash and lots of it.”
“Aren't you afraid he'll stiff you?”
“Nah, I'm expecting he'll want me to come back for more.
I offered to kill Anna for free. Don't want her kind in the Highlands anyway!”
“And that,” replied Theodore as his Live Steel armor burst
around him. “Was a stupid thing to say.” He charged his opponent still bare
handed, much to his confusion. Good, a break in his poise! Theodore lunged
with his left hand invoking his weapon only at the last second.
The Taik recoiled at the lunge but still took a nasty gash
to his left shoulder for the work. He growled evilly as he raised his own
armor and squared off with Theodore. The exchange was fast and furious and
both quickly broke to recenter themselves. The Taik shifted his weapon to his
right hand and growled defiantly at Theodore, “Good thing I'm not really a
southpaw!”
They closed for two more quick exchanges, Theodore probing
and testing his speed before retreating out of range. “Ever watch old human
movies?”
“Why?”
“I'm not left handed either!” grinned Theodore as he
invoked a second blade into his right hand and closed mercilessly. The Taik
was good, but Theodore was better, far better. This guy wouldn't have lasted a
day in his father's advanced class! Theodore's blades effortlessly shifted
length, weight and form at his whim. Long sword to glaive and then back again
to a pair of narrow rapiers all in an instant flash of blue sparks.
The Taik quickly realized he was outclassed, so he dipped
into the standard emergency reserve of all Taiks: swifting. Human doctors
described it as five Shukuraes’ worth of adrenaline being shoved into the body
of a wee little Taik. That failed to account for the secondary chemical
release in a Taik’s body that held the chemical equivalent to an oxygen reserve
as well. Perfect oxygen transport to the muscles, excellent muscle activity
and hyper reflexes. All good in a bar fight, but not so good here! The one
fact that most Taiks forgot about swifting is it moved their brain into almost
primeval simplification: higher brain functions just weren't happening!
Theodore immediately recognized the signs of swifting and
shifted his game style. He knew the man's reserves would run out in two to
three minutes and the current attack, while brutal and powerful, wasn't that
well placed or planned out. Theodore fought defensively, taking only small
snipes to cause mild injury and further rage, as he minded his time and waited
for his opponent to collapse.
Barely two minutes in, the man collapsed to the ground as
expected. Theodore desperately looked around for the cigar smoking human but
he was nowhere to be found. A page on the hospital's intercom did, however,
quickly bring local security to the room. They quickly bound the Taik before
looking to the many shallow cuts all over his arms and torso. They were in a
hospital at least.
The head of the hospital security sat and talked with
Theodore as they waited for the police to arrive. Several calls around
confirmed what the mysterious man had alluded to: Agent Telmark was, in fact,
dead.
Theodore sat in the office of the head of hospital
security while talking on a three way link with the sheriff's office and the
regional governor. The Federal Police were being left out of the conversation.
“There ended up being over eighty arrests of various
organized crime figures this last summer. And not
one
of them was from
the
Bella-Shoana,” groused Governor Bradley. “That does seem in line
with the story you were handed. Years of one or two small fries, and then
whoosh! A whole net full of mid to upper echelon players in two months time.
With the local competition out of the way and the FPs turning a blind eye, the
Bella-Shoana were probably able to move in quite nicely.”
“Why did Telmark sell out? He seemed like a devoted guy.
If he was crooked he could have sold me out last Spring.” Theodore's mind was
a blur.
“If I can offer a guess, and it is a guess only,” began
the governor. “I think Agent Telmark may have been trying to cut his losses.
Their office lost six people in the opening stages of the investigation. Six
people he had known long and well. I'm guessing that his heart broke and he
was willing to sell you out rather than attend more funerals.”
“Instead those six died for nothing,” growled the Deputy
Sheriff. “Yeah, the people you work with become like family. But family means
you are also proud of each other's work. Proud what the
team
was able
to do. To sell out short knowing that the Bella-Shoana were still going to be
around, and now not held in check by their own sleazy counterparts... No, I'd
rather think that Agent Telmark sold out for money than to disgrace the work of
those that served beside him and fell in the line of duty.”
The governor sighed and nodded, “All of you in law
enforcement have a damn tough job... Okay, have your people start a criminal
investigation into the accident. I'll invoke my authority to keep the federals
out of your way for a couple weeks at least. Current cover story is the Feds
knew things were being tampered with and were trying to catch the people red
handed, but things got out of control and the tampered cars accidentally made
it into the wild. Is that close enough to true to work for now?”
The Deputy Sheriff nodded, “It gets the point across
without letting out too much. It gives reasons to keep the FPs on the
sidelines, but as a horrible accident rather than as bad cops. Bitter pill,
but if we stood up and accused Telmark of orchestrating mass murder, there
would be a lot of push back immediately. We're going to have to get the FPs in
at some point...”
“We can see about getting a rotation from a different
province...”
“A good place to start. That leaves us with two
problems. Protecting Mr. Blackford here and furthering the investigation into
the Bella-Shoana
beyond
the current accident.”
“I have a meeting set for less than thirty minutes from
now with the Deputy Director of the Federal Police. The question is, are there
any people you trust implicitly and are comfortable to work alongside? A
cooperative task force seems like the way to go.”
“Agent Tamilton and her team are my first and only
choice.”
“Oh, heavens! Things are a disaster wherever they go!”
“Bigger or smaller than two train cars full of dead
people?”
“Point taken. Point taken,” the governor sighed. “Okay,
I'll request them by name. What about additional security?”
“DSS? The guy at the Foreign Office came through nicely
before.”
Theodore permitted himself a small grin as he listened to
the banter; the Secretary of the Foreign Office was a chair on the foundation
that provided his scholarship. He was a good man to know.
“Will ask. You don't mind DSS guys floating around while
you work?” asked the governor.
“They are creepy, but professional,” replied the Deputy
Sheriff.
“Mr. Foxdale-Blackford, my apologies for everything that
has happened,” began the governor. “Last time we shepherded you along home,
and that may have opened up our throats to be cut. This time I'm bound and
determined to run these... people to the ground! Flush them out into the light
and pick them off like the rats they are.”
“Albert Francis Turpin,” remarked a stately human lady as
she poked her head into Theodore's dorm room.
“Uh, no ma'am. Theodore Foxdale of Clan Blackford.”
She grinned as she handed Theodore a tablet with a series
of images of a gnarled and sinister looking human male. Late fifties, favoring
dark wool trench coats, crumpled fedora and hand rolled cigars...
Theodore's face let up at once, “That looks an awful lot
like the man I saw.”
“Hit the boxes at the bottom. They'll play some
recordings we have of his voice.”
Theodore did as instructed and his fur immediately started
to crawl.
The lady in the door laughed sharply, “Well, the reports
nailed
you
dead on. Avoid poker son: you have a
terrible
tell!”
“I'm going to guess that you are Agent Tamilton?”
“In one!” she grinned as she offered her hand. “Special
Agent Patricia Tamilton, Federal Police. Feel free to call me Pat.”
He shook her hand and grinned, “What division?”
She grinned, “Hell raising. Not an official department,
but the Deputy Director once used it on one of our reports. We liked it!”
“Dare I ask how big is 'we'?”
“Eight of us in the field, three back home on comms and
the lab. Come on, let's rest a spell at the canteen. We both have questions.”
“The governor seemed hesitant about you and your unit, but
the Deputy Sheriff was quite insistent,” offered Theodore as he got up from his
desk and followed the lady down the hall. “Do you have a history?”
“Eh, Deputy Sheriff John Eccleston, yeah... he is my
little brother...”
“That explains the level of trust.”
“Indeed! But with regard to the governor, he just knows
our reputation: rude, surly, never inside budget and highly effective. We seem
to eat and breathe harassment lawsuits...” she grinned. “On the other hand,
we've never lost in court: criminal cases or lawsuits! Doesn't mean we don't
cause some serious waves.”
“I have a distinct impression that your unit fares so well
in court because so few people
make
it that far.”
She flashed Theodore a sinister grin, “There is a certain
truth and utility to that...”
“Um, is what Mr. Turpin said about Agent Telmark true?” he
asked sheepishly.
She frowned as they continued out the building, “From what
we can tell, yes. Stinks, but that's the flavor of it.”
“Arguing with the rain just gets you wet...”
Pat laughed, “I do love some of those off world
expressions... So have you thought about why the Bella-Shoana are after you?”
“Um, not since the initial attacks... just came up a
blank.”
“Oh, you're a sharp lad, think about the recent events and
conversations...”
Theodore noodled a bit and came up with the absurd, “My
math
paper? No way...”
Pat grinned, “It does explain why Dr. Barvelt was killed.
With him gone the paper is languishing in publishing hell and the two of you
seemed to be the only ones to 'get it.'”
Theodore's mind raced, “It was amazing that the paper was
accepted in the first place. It was more of a heuristic solution that would
provably converge. But it wasn't elegant in the classical sense.”
“Math is not my
forte;
what made whatever you did
unique?”
“Um, well, it was computationally fast on every single
data set we tried. We proved it converged to the correct solution for all
spaces over which it was defined. Its worst case was still inside the bounds
for the classical solutions.”
“So it was fast. Was it very fast?”
“Quite fast. In some cases ridiculously fast...”
“Okay,” she grinned, “now what did it
do?
And use
small words! My masters was in forensic pathology, a far cry from math!”
He laughed, “The simplest version would be it was
analyzing signals to detect nonrandom aspects buried in the noise. That's a
gross simplification of course.”
“Of course! So possibly used for data decryption?”
“We thought of that, analyzed some of the Foreign Office's
one time pads. Came up blank on those. Kinda expected, they work hard to make
sure those are truly random.”
“I thought there were no perfect algorithms for creating
truly random numbers.”
“Algorithms, not so much. But methods, yes. Mostly based
on radioactive or quantum noise, those are well plowed. The biggest area when
we had unexpected fun was analyzing deep space signals for EM traffic. We
could isolate a few planets about 400 light years away. But using it for deep
space rescue is a little impractical: light is too slow.”
Patricia laughed at that, “Light is too slow... This is
why I was in biology.”
“Okay, light is fast, but space is bloody huge!” grinned
Theodore.
“I'll take that! Would it work for gate-synced comms,
maybe military purposes where you are trying to receive a message through
jamming?”
“Looked at that. We could show that there was an embedded
signal, but not recover it.”
“How about gambling?” asked a mountain of a man that
approached them as they started up the steps of the student union.
“Theodore, meet Jax,” began Pat. “Do we have a lead?”
Jax quickly shook Theodore's hand and continued, “Maybe.
One of the reviewers of his paper, a Dr. Felskoot. Apparently he lost a
graduate student about seven months ago. Student's background was in
probability theory. Moonlighted for the local gaming commission.”
“Here or offworld?”
“Blair VII. Way out there...”
“But right in the middle of Bella-Shoana territory.”
“Exactly.”
“Grad student's death wasn't suspicious?”
“Auto-erotic asphyxiation mishap. Was ruled an accident.”
“I think I lost something in translation,” interrupted
Theodore.
“Nope. Just like it sounds. Kinda way out there in my
book, but far more common than you might think.”
Theodore cringed, “Okay, I don't want any grief from you
people over
my
dating habits.”
“Engaged, aren't you?” asked Pat.
“Yes, ma'am. I've already warned Anna.”
“Anna Westmore,” replied Jax.
“That's the one.”
“Not worried about the other girl? The Highlander...
Meagan?” asked Pat.
“No, ma'am! Her father is an impressive man. He served
with the Shukurae's 517
th
CSOG.”
“That is good to know... Okay, everyone!” grinned Pat as
they approached a full table in the middle of the canteen. “Ones you haven't
met: Paul, Alicia, Toni, Everett, Mark and Alfonso. If they aren't at this
table, we don't trust them.”
“Oughtn't we be doing this in a secure room?” asked
Theodore.
“I prefer wide open. That way you can see who is coming
by to risk a peek. Okay people, we have two tasks, protect this young man
until the DSS relieves us and find and destroy the Bella-Shoana on our fair
planet. Theodore confirmed that it was indeed Albert Turpin in the hospital
yesterday. Any quick questions before we get started?”
Theodore had a million questions but it was Toni who asked
the first one, “The Taik that attacked him that is now in the hospital, how do
we interrogate him? He's sedated right now, and my understanding is if he
wakes up he's going to pull a Live Steel stunt on us.”
Eyes went to Theodore, “It is possible to break the
connection one has with Live Steel. Normally I'd say ask one of the constables
back home. But after everything I've been through, I think I might be able to
do that. Either way, I'd love the chance to kick his ass again.”
Pat grinned, “Good attitude.”