Your Truth is Out There (Find Your Truth Book 1) (18 page)

“Yes, of course. I understand.”

Henry closed his eyes and fought down an urge to scream. This was getting neither of them anywhere. It was clear to Henry that, while he believed Alcorn to be a good man, they were on such different wavelengths, he wasn’t sure if they would ever be able to truly communicate. The only thing Henry knew for sure was that this stalemate had to end. He had to try and make Alcorn understand, not just as an attempt to be released from prison, but because there was something much larger at stake, even though he didn’t know what that was exactly. Just like he couldn’t prove Wellston was behind the beatings, Henry couldn’t put his finger on what was going on, or why it was important, or even why Alcorn was important, he just knew that the General needed to have all of the information he could provide.

“Look General,” he said when he’d regained his composure, “we don’t have to like each other to respect one another, and believe it or not, I do respect you and the work you do.”

Alcorn scoffed.

“You could’ve fooled me,” he said.

“Well, it’s true. I understand the need for a strong military as much as anyone. I just don’t like being held prisoner by it, nor do I like it when it oversteps its bounds, like it did in the clearing.” Henry held up a hand to stop Alcorn from interrupting. “To prove myself, let me give you what you want. Let me tell you why I helped the non-terrestrial escape.”

Alcorn straightened up and met Henry’s eyes once again.

“You’re a strange one, Backus, that’s for damn sure. That’s about the only thing I know for certain. And you’re right, I suppose, I don’t have to like you to respect you, which is a good thing, because I really don’t like you.”

Henry smiled.

“I’d say I get that a lot, but mainly just from my wife. Well, my ex-wife or soon-to-be ex-wife, I guess.”

“I can’t imagine why it didn’t work out between you.”

“Different reasons than you might think, but that’s another story.”

“Yes, I believe you’re about to tell me something a lot more important.”

“I am,” said Henry. “I helped Zef, the non-terrestrial as you call it. His name is Zef. I think Zef’s a male, so I’ll refer to it as him, although I can’t really be sure. But I do know his name is Zef. And he knows my name is Henry.”

“I’ll be a son-of-a-bitch,” said Alcorn, half under his breath. “Why didn’t you say anything about this before?”

Henry thought for a minute before he answered.

“Part of it was just simple defiance, I think, just not wanting to let you win. But there was more to it than that. I think it was because it was you, a big, powerful Army general, with the full weight of the government behind him on one side, and me, a small, powerless civilian sitting across the table in an uncomfortable, straight-backed chair, in a closed, badly ventilated interrogation room. It was like a scene straight out of some badly written spy movie. It couldn’t have been any more cliché. General, the whole thing was a joke, a travesty, especially for two intelligent adults like us. There was no way I was going to play a part in such a poorly executed scenario like that.”

Alcorn looked confused. “You’re not making any sense, son. You’re telling me that you didn’t like the room you were in, and that’s why you wouldn’t talk?”

“What I’m saying, General, is that if you want to find out what a person knows, you need to first know the person. I’m an artist, as you probably guessed by all of the paintings you confiscated when you arrested me.”

Henry suddenly looked concerned.

“You did get my paintings, didn’t you?”

Alcorn nodded. “Yes, they’re secure.”

“Good. Well General, the one thing an artist seeks, above all else, is truth. Truth in beauty if we can find it, but if not, then truth in whatever condition it happens to be in. That is why I couldn’t hold a job in the ‘real’ world, being forced to bastardize my artistic talent in a vain attempt to sell things people don’t need to people who can’t afford them. That’s also why my marriage failed, because there was no truth in it. That, General, is why I couldn’t be a part of that sham you called an interrogation.”

Alcorn nodded slowly, at least pretending to understand what Henry was saying, but he remained silent.

“Before my encounter with Zef,” said Henry, “I probably would have tried to answer your questions in the interrogation room. I was so cowed, so intimidated by life, and so disillusioned by it all, I would have probably done everything possible to try and fit in to make you like me. But it wouldn’t have worked. At some point I would have gone over the edge, created such an outburst that I likely would have ended up in here anyway, only your men would have been justified in putting me here.”

The General sat quietly for a few more minutes before finally speaking.

“Okay Backus, I get it, I think. I think you’re a bit of a loon, but I get it. Tell me the rest of the story about your encounter with Zef and why you protected him.”

“Okay, but before I do, may I ask one favor? Would you mind calling me Henry? You don’t have to read anything into it. I just prefer it, that’s all.”

Alcorn frowned. “Fine. Henry it is.”

“Thank you, General. Now, let me ask you a couple of questions. What country, aside from the United States, are you and your family’s favorite place to visit?”

“Good God, son, what does that have to do with anything?”

“Please General, bear with me.”

“Oh, all right,” said the General. He thought for a moment before continuing on. “Greece, I suppose. My wife and I vacation there regularly. Great food, and the people are warm and friendly. Of course, the beaches aren’t too shabby either.”

“Great. Now, what country, in your opinion, represents the single most dangerous threat to American citizens right now?”

“Well, there are several, actually,” said Alcorn. “North Korea, several Middle Eastern countries, as well as several places in the former Soviet Bloc. It’s difficult to pick just one.”

“Okay, no problem,” said Henry. “Here’s the situation. Your entire family is in Greece on vacation, except you. You had some special mission to take care of, then you were to fly your private jet there and meet them. The mission went well, but on your way to Greece, the plane malfunctions. It’s nothing serious, but you can’t make it all the way, so you have to land and fix it. It’s a simple repair, one you can do yourself, you just need a couple of hours in a safe, private spot. Here’s the problem, the only place available to land is in one of those Middle Eastern or former Soviet Bloc countries that are none too safe for Americans.

“That wouldn’t happen, you know. I’d file flight plans that would only route me through friendly airspace.”

“My scenario, my rules, General. Besides, let’s say the malfunction you had was your navigation system and you didn’t realize where you were until it was too late.”

“Your scenario, your rules, but for someone so hung up on truth, I’m telling you it wouldn’t happen.”

“Facts often get in the way of deeper truths, General.”

“Perhaps,” sighed Alcorn. “Are we anywhere close to the truth about your encounter with Zef, because I’m just about out of patience.”

“Yes, General, we’re getting close. Realizing you’re in unfriendly territory, you try to get below radar coverage and find as isolated of an area as possible to make your repairs. As you make your landing and get out of your plane, you see a single local approaching. He’s armed, but clearly scared. You try to make it clear that your intentions are friendly, but since you don’t speak the same language, it’s impossible to communicate.”

Henry paused for a moment, thinking back to that moment in the clearing when he and Zef stared at each other, not knowing what to think or do.

“Well, then what?” Asked the General.

“You reach into your cockpit and turn on your radio.”

As Gsefx sat comfortably admiring the large cockpit of Ricnor’s vehicle, he was struck by how quickly the situation had changed. Just thirty ebyts ago, he thought he was dead for sure, along with Lhvunsa and Qilzar. Now he was, quite literally, in the pilot’s seat, and it was rather a plush pilot’s seat at that.

The ship was a Klurdine Remlin, the galaxy’s top of the line multi-passenger vehicle. Apparently, the Ricnor gang flew nothing but the best. He’d connected his ship to the Remlin, effectively increasing the ship’s size and power, even if it wasn’t by much. It was either that or leave his vehicle behind and Gsefx had a feeling he might need his own transportation again before this was all over.

Gsefx’s captives were once again conscious, but securely locked into two of the passenger seats behind him. Klarnus wasn’t much in the mood for talking, but Dilnch wouldn’t shut up. He finally had to be threatened with another beating, only this time with the butt of the obliterator instead of Gsefx’s fists, before he would quiet down.

“Fifteen ebyts before the deadline,” said Gsefx. “Time to call your boss and make a new deal.”

“Good luck with that,” said Dilnch. “You’re gonna need it.”

“Remember our agreement,” said Gsefx, “you two behave and I allow you to remain conscious. Otherwise, I’ll turn the lights out again.” He waved the scrambler at Klarnus, who was still fuzzy from his first two encounters with the device. “And you know I will.”

“Just keep your mouth shut, Dilnch,” said Klarnus to his partner. “I’ve been stunned enough to last me for a good long while.”

Dilnch looked as though he was about to say something, but thought better of it and nodded his head in compliance.

Reaching for the vidcon, Gsefx entered the code Klarnus had provided and waited for their boss to answer.

The screen lit up and was filled with the dark red face of a very unhappy Alvarian.

“What in the galaxy has taken … wait a … what are you … where are …”

“Go ahead, get it out of your system, then we’ll talk,” said Gsefx, hoping flippancy would hide his fear.

The unhappy face turned an even darker shade of red, followed by a sinister smile and the revelation of razor sharp teeth.

“Don’t forget who you’re dealing with, accountant. I’ve got your wife and Qilzar, and you’re out of time.”

“Trust me, I haven’t forgotten who I’m dealing with, Et Ricnor, and I’m keenly aware of the time. But, and this is important, I’m also quite aware that I was out of time the moment you took Lhvunsa, so let’s not pretend that I’m the one who’s failed here.”

Ricnor’s face softened, but only slightly.

“Fair enough,” he said. “But the fact remains that I still have your wife and Qilzar and I won’t hesitate to kill them. If you think I won’t, you’re sadly mistaken.”

“I believe you will,” said Gsefx. “In fact I’m certain that you will kill me as well. But not yet, not when you still have so much to gain by keeping us alive.”

“Go on, I’m listening.”

“I have the painting, which is all you say you want. But, I also have two of your associates, one of your vehicles, and several of your weapons.”

Gsefx switched viewpoints on the vidcon as he went through the list to show Ricnor that all he said was true.

“Now, we could set up an exchange, where we swap what I have and you want for what you have and I want, but I don’t see that as playing out very well in my favor.”

At this, Ricnor actually smiled. “But what other choice do you have?” he said.

Now it was Gsefx’s turn to smile. “What other choice indeed? Et Ricnor, I may only be a lowly accountant and not a criminal mastermind like yourself, but I’m not a complete idiot. We both know that the painting in the cargo hold, while quite valuable in and of itself, is nothing more than a map to a larger haul of paintings, each worth at least as much as this one, some probably worth much more. Am I right?”

As Gsefx spoke, Ricnor’s smile disappeared and was replaced by a more neutral expression.

“It’s been my experience that a little knowledge can sometimes be a good thing,” he said, “but too much knowledge can be hazardous to one’s health. What do you think, accountant?”

Gsefx’s stomach was in knots and he felt sweat trickling down his back, but this was not a time to show weakness. Gamesmanship was the key to all successful negotiations and he had to prove he was up to the task or he, Lhvunsa, and Qilzar were all as good as dead.

“I agree, of course,” said Gsefx, “that sometimes too much knowledge can be a dangerous thing. Like, for instance, when I shared too much information with Qilzar about my trip to Irt, which is actually pronounced Earth, by the way, and my encounter with the artist who painted these magnificent works. Had I known the fool couldn’t keep his mouth shut, I would never have told him. Look at all the trouble he’s caused.”

That evoked a round of laughter from Ricnor and those around him. Gsefx pretended to laugh with them.

“Ah yes, Qilzar, the poor sap, led us right to you. I imagine you’re none too happy with him for putting you and your lovely wife in the spot you’re in.”

Ricnor paused for a moment, as if in thought.

“You know, now that you mention it, Qilzar really is no longer necessary. We can dispatch him for you if you’d like.”

He motioned to one of his men.

“No!” said Gsefx, a little too quickly, “I assure you, that’s unnecessary. He may be a fool, but he’s still a friend.”

“Then listen closely, accountant,” said Ricnor, all trace of humor gone from his voice. “Stop playing games and get to the point. I don’t like games or complications, and as you’ve provided way too much of both, I don’t much like you, either.”

“All right, all right, I understand” said Gsefx, swallowing hard. “Here it is. Give me six rotations, the use of this vehicle, the weapons on board, and the cooperation of your two associates and I’ll deliver all thirty-one paintings to you. In exchange, you agree to release my wife, Qilzar and me, and stay out of our lives for good.”

If Ricnor was surprised, he didn’t show it. But he also didn’t respond immediately either. After a few ebyts, during which he looked at Gsefx appraisingly, he finally replied.

“An interesting proposal, accountant. My first question is an obvious one. Why? I mean, I understand that you don’t trust me to exchange the one painting for your wife and Qilzar, but how does your trust improve, simply because we’re exchanging more paintings?”