CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
The Sundance Motel, Palmyra, NY December 13, 2308 18:47:19
They arrived at The Sundance at six fifty. The sun had set hours ago, and the street was illuminated by the harsh orange of the amber lights overhead. Walking the sidewalk past the convenience store and flower shop, Slade pointed to the building ahead. It was painted flat black, absorbing the light of the overhead lamps instead of reflecting it. There was no signage of any kind, and the only identifying mark that indicated the building was actually inhabited was a sputtering blue neon rectangle over the double doors which read "VA NC".
Reaching into his pocket, Slade donned the sunglasses, and remarked how they didn't make the streetscape darker. Hotaru quickly donned hers.
"I think they might be magnifying and clarifying the images." She said, glancing at the petals of a bunch of daisies in the flower shop window as they passed.
"I think you're right," Slade said, removing the glasses and replacing them repeatedly, checking the difference in visual images. He looked up, placed the glasses over his eyes, and motioned to the door. "We're here."
They entered The Sundance, heading to the reception desk a few meters inside. A screen stood vertical on the desk, and a tall brunette motioned to it.
"Will you be checking in?" She asked.
"Visiting a guest, actually. We're here to see Bill Brooks?"
She nodded knowingly. "Ah, yes. Mr. Brooks indicated he was expecting guests. Please scan yourselves in."
Slade froze, stealing a sidelong glance at Hotaru, who tapped the frame of her sunglasses. Slade pressed the blue button at the base of the terminal. He leaned down, pretending to remove the glasses, allowing the laser to read his retina. Would it read through the lenses? A soft chirp from the terminal, and he backed away, watching the display on the monitor. Sure enough, his picture appeared - his old iCorps ID picture - but underneath, to his surprise, it did not display his name. Instead, it read Blair Vold.
"Excellent. And you, miss?"
Hotaru leaned down, mimicking Slade's actions, and waited for the terminal to do its thing. Moments later, the chirp sounded, and she backed up, excited to see the glasses in action again. Sure enough, her picture was there, and underneath - Megan Vold.
"Welcome, Mr. and Mrs. Vold. Is this your first time at The Sundance?"
Slade shook his head. "I've been here a couple times." Hotaru quickly nodded, impulsively grabbing Slade's arm.
"Fantastic." She motioned with her arm to the hallway off to the left. "Elevators are around the corner to the left. Mr. Brooks has instructed us to guide you to his room - number four nineteen. Enjoy your time at The Sundance."
"Thank you." Slade said, guiding Hotaru around the desk toward the elevators.
They arrived at the fourth floor without incident. As the elevator doors opened, they found themselves in a long hallway decorated blandly in cream and taupe, with the occasional scarlet accent - a picture frame here, a vase full of white flowers there. The carpet looked almost new, but there were definite signs of use. Numbers on the doors were predictable, evens on one side of the hallway, and odds on the other.
"Four fifteen...four seventeen..." Hotaru said scanning the numbers as they walked the hall. Reaching four nineteen, they stopped. Slade raised his hand to knock, but hesitated. He looked at Hotaru, who, despite the dim lighting of the hallway, still wore her sunglasses. He had gotten used to the view, and had forgotten he was wearing his pair. Shaking his head as if to clear a bad memory, Slade knocked on the door in the same "shave and a haircut" pattern that the courier had.
The door opened a minute later, and a very tall, very wide man dressed in a suit stood in the doorway. Where most men presented a rectangular profile, this man had a definite square profile - nothing but muscle and brawn. Even after a SKATE download, Slade doubted that he could take this man in a fair fight. The man looked them over, appraising each in turn. When he spoke, his voice was sepulchral, a rumble that could be felt where Slade stood, nearly two meters away.
"Mr. and Mrs. Vold. So very nice of you to join us. Please come in. I will take you to Mr. Brooks."
He moved out of the doorway, and they followed him into the room. Being a corner suite, and at the top of the motel, the room was bigger than Slade had expected - certainly bigger than his Dwelling - no his former Dwelling at The College. It had a separate full bedroom, washroom, kitchen and dining area, and a living area that boasted two leather armchairs, a leather sofa and a long granite table. The big man escorted them as far as the armchairs, and stopped.
"Mr. Brooks will see you now. Please be seated." He turned and left the room, coming to a stop three meters from the front door where he now rested like a statue.
Slade and Hotaru took seats on the sofa, sitting beside each other. Other than the big man, there was no one else in the room. A click from the left, and Slade turned his head to see an old man walking from the bedroom area toward them. He was dressed finely, in a black suit and fedora that looked like it cost more than Slade's hover. Though he appeared to be in his nineties, he walked with surety and grace that belied his age.
They stood, and Hotaru took a step toward the man.
"Mr. Brooks?" She enquired.
"Indeed, young lady." Brooks' voice was a soft tenor, mellowed with age and experience. "Please sit."
He looked at the table, which was empty, and frowned. They sat, Brooks being almost swallowed whole by the big leather armchair he lowered himself into.
"Nathaniel," Brooks called to the big man. "Will you please fetch us something to drink? I fear our guests have not been shown adequate hospitality."
Hotaru started to protest, but Brooks waved it away. "We have more important things to discuss than the manners of my bodyguard."
"Thank you for the gear, sir." Slade said. "May we take off these glasses now?"
Brooks looked confused for a moment, and then chuckled, a raspy sound that was different from the smooth voice of moments ago. "Yes, yes. Their immediate use has passed."
Hotaru placed her glasses on the table, and Slade followed suit. He was about to ask Brooks another question when Nathaniel returned bearing a silver tray laden with three teacups on saucers, a sugar bowl, a cream decanter, and spoons. He distributed the cups, Kona coffee for Hotaru, and tea for Slade and Brooks. Placing the cream and sugar in the middle of the table, he departed, his steps silent for such a large man. As Slade dumped two spoonfuls of sugar into his tea, he turned to Brooks. He had lifted his cup to his lips, and was sipping the warm beverage. Again, Slade was about to speak, and again he was interrupted.
"I don't mean to sound ungrateful, but how do we know you haven't poisoned the drinks?" This came from Hotaru, who had not even touched her cup.
"A valid question, young one. But if I was really out to kill you, don't you think I could have done so already, using the very gear that you are wearing now?"
She seemed mollified a bit by the answer, but still sat straight, eyes scanning the room wary of any potential danger that might be lurking in one of the other rooms.
"Mr. Brooks?" Slade got the old man's attention. "We came here because you said you had answers. I'd like to hear some of those answers now. What can you tell me about my missing time?"
Brooks smiled then, a grandfatherly smile that made both Hotaru and Slade feel a little more at home.
"Your two minutes are safe within the Integrated Registration Information System. I am afraid that you were setup, Slade."
"I knew it!" Slade said, bringing his fist down on his knee. "But why? Was it because of what I found in Crimea? About Herman's smuggling ring?"
"That is the biggest part of it. The other part has to do with the four men you killed while in a berserk rage. Together, these events comprise a bigger whole that threatens the stability put in place by the Emissary program. The Director has decided to make an example of you to show the rest of the Emissary Corps that they must stay within the strict guidelines given to them while in training dur
ing Beta School."
Slade's shoulders slumped, the high and exhilaration of being right was immediately deflated by the memory of the four guards in Crimea. He looked at Hotaru and his face flushed, embarrassment clearly showing. Hotaru thought of Kozel, how she had gone into a similar rage, with identical results - the death of an innocent.
"I have hand picked you Slade, to help me bring down someone who should have been brought down a long time ago. This bit about Herman merely accelerated the timeline. You are a man who," he turned to Hotaru, indicating her with his hand. "Like Hotaru here, has an ingrained, defined set of principles that aspires to a higher purpose. A sense of duty, sure, but also justice, and morals above reproach."
Hotaru and Slade looked at each other, and then back to Brooks.
"Bring someone down?" Hotaru asked.
Brooks chuckled again, air wheezing out of his lungs in a raspy flow.
"I get ahead of myself. Let me go back to the beginning. There is a person, one person, who sits at the Head of iCorps. She calls the shots on all operations, and has complete veto power on any decision, at any time. She has more power than the Principals."
Slade moved as if he was about to speak, but Brooks silenced him. "Let me finish. I will answer your questions after."
Slade nodded.
"Her purpose is to monitor and control the Emissary Program, maintaining the numbers of Alpha Emissaries, and Beta and Gamma recruits to fill the openings. She also monitors the assignments, and facilitates issues via Control. Make sense so far?"
They both nodded, eager for more information.
"Here's where the story gets interesting. Iris has been in power for nearly eighty years. She ascended to her current position in 2239, and has been overseeing the program since. In that long tenure, she has seen eighteen Imperators come and go, Principals in every territory change, and has watched two Colleges reach the completion of their renovations. Though our society has changed, evolved, Iris has remained constant in her vigilance, watching, gathering, and acting."
Brooks shifted in the armchair, placing his cup on the table, and leaning back into the chair, resting his right ankle on his left knee.
"Over the last year, you've probably noticed that the amount of Deliveries has increased." Slade and Hotaru both agreed, and Brooks continued. "Though the official quota hasn't changed, the frequency has, and Emissaries are now Delivering close to three hundred and twenty Letters annually. The reasoning? There is none. Iris is now sending Letters at her own whim, with no rhyme or reason, to people who may be a threat, who have the potential to be a threat. This is beyond the scope of the program, inhumane beyond reason. We must remove her."
Brooks paused, letting his words sink in. Hotaru thought of Abujamal. Was he actually a threat? Had she Delivered on a whim because Iris thought that the Doctor represented a future threat without actually being one?
"How do you Deliver to the one who issues the Letters?" Hotaru asked, breaking the silence.
"How, indeed." Brooks replied, a smile turning up the corners of his mouth.
"We'll have to find another way, Hotaru." Slade said confidently.
"You already have a plan, don't you?" She asked Brooks. "You said you hand picked Slade."
"Very perceptive, young lady. I've been trying to find a way to bring her down for years. To find someone with the correct unbreakable drive and moral compass that will see this through. I had noticed Slade from a young age. You are the icing on an already baked cake. The two of you are the beginning of the end."
"What is your plan?" Slade asked.
"We have to go to the source - where Iris resides. Once we're there, we'll need to neutralize any threats and remove her. It will no doubt be a dangerous endeavor. Our movements and actions will need to be planned out, strategic, precise. But before we go there - before we undertake this mission of reclamation - we need to assemble a few more pieces of the puzzle. We need a bigger team. We need to make sure we cannot fail. This is the last chance I'll have to make this right. I'm getting too old. I have to make this right now."
EPILOGUE
Deep in the freezing Antarctic summer, Casey Station stood sentry over the ice, rock, and water that made up the southern most continent on the planet. The Red Shed stood empty, as it had been for the past century plus, empty save for the Integrated Registration Information System, which continued to catalogue the data it had been programmed for.
In addition to receiving data, today the System was also actively looking for data. Very specific data. The screens showed varying views of the City of Palmyra, New York. ABM, traffic and satellite cameras showed every outdoor meter of the town, and where they could not see, security cameras hacked by the System's subroutines allowed access inside offices, coffee shops and hospitals. Hijacked webcam feeds allowed the System to see inside the homes of the citizens of Palmyra, and still there was no sign of the information it searched for.
The two top rightmost screens stopped changing, showing the ID cards of Slade Meechan and Hotaru Kogame. A red "Missing" flashed over their pictures, alternating with a white "Wanted". A screen below showed the upload status to the major news networks. UTNN, SNEWS, and FOX all showed completion, with various others around the world, including Al-Jazeera and CBC showing less than twenty percent remaining. Text files containing a fabricated story had already been mailed to the station managers, and their announcers would be broadcasting the story as soon as the pictures had been processed by their graphics departments. Within hours, the entire world would be looking for the two ex-Emissaries.
Yet another screen showed the names and profile pictures of the four Beta Emissaries that were being pre-emptively activated to Alpha Status per EmergActive Protocol. William Edwards, Michelle Brunet, Jamie Perry, and Mack York were all now receiving notifications via their chronometers to report to their Colleges for active duty. In addition, two Alphas - Alexandra Knight and Jace Murphy were just now receiving their new mission parameters to assemble the Betas. Once ready, they would embark in groups of three to find Hotaru and Slade.
Immediate precautions taken, the System returned half of its resources to its original duties, cataloguing and recording the various information that it required, keeping the other half working on the two rogue Emissaries. Delivery instructions were sent to the six Emissaries, notifications waiting on their LND's for them to read. They would be given an unprecedented fourteen days to track and Deliver. The information must be kept hidden. The world must not know about Frankl's secret.
Satisfied that there were no further immediate steps to be taken, IRIS returned full processing power to her usual purpose. Watching. Writing. Waiting. Sooner or later, they would have to come to the surface, and when they did, IRIS would be watching. IRIS would be waiting. And IRIS would wipe them out.
###
Thank you for reading this book. It represents over two years of creating, writing, editing, and formatting. It has fulfilled one of my dreams, and I hope that it allowed you to escape into one of yours.
Thanks!
A.J. Leavens
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