Read Primal Estate: The Candidate Species Online
Authors: Samuel Franklin
Primal Estate: The Candidate Species (44 page)
“Yeah, that’s all,” Rick replied. The image of a small piece of paper with writing on it flashed in Rick’s mind. On the piece of paper was written, “I am the Lion.”
Tom Durham stared with the others and could not believe what he had just seen. The nightmare they had just entered began in slow motion from that point forward. They gawked at Tony’s lifeless body in front of them. Looking around at each other, they realized they were not alone.
They forgot about the murder they had just witnessed and jumped back to draw their weapons, but they had none. By now, any pistols the men had with them disintegrated on their bodies. Will looked with disbelief at the powder in his hand.
My work. My murders, Rick thought. He had known this day would come, almost from the beginning of this nightmare, when he would have to betray his kind. He had now done the worst. He’d broken a trust and a bond. “God help me if this is not for the greater good.”
When Marcus Holliday pulled up, there was no one at the meeting place. He was only an hour late and nothing was there, only one set of tire tracks to be seen by his headlights. He tried to call Tony but there was no service. He shook his head and drove home, cursing his friends for either having fooled him or making other plans without telling him. No one was left that knew of the meeting, no one but Marcus and Rick.
Utu heard Barnes and Nobelle outside and could tell by their barking that someone must be starting up the driveway. It must be Rick, he thought. He wasn’t expected home until later. Utu quickly stuck the meat in a pot, added some water and a stick of butter, put on the lid, and turned on the heat. He listened. Still coming up the driveway, driving awfully slowly, he thought.
Carson was in his room listening to music and Shainan was on the internet looking for home. She heard the impact and looked up at Utu, worried. He instinctively pointed to his own eyes and twirled his finger in front of him, as if pointing to the entire room, silently signaling for her to stay put, watch, and be ready. Committing one of those errors people make when new to a language, Utu called out as calmly as he could, “Carson, your Dad just drove into the garage.”
Utu dashed through the mud room and into the garage to find the Jeep had missed it by about three feet, and impacted the left side of the door opening, creating a lot less damage than he’d thought from the sound. Rick was slumped over the steering wheel. Utu helped him out of the Jeep and guided him into the house.
Utu grabbed Rick under the arm, almost lifting him off his feet. Shainan approached to help, but Carson waved her off. “I’ve got this,” he said, taking his father under the other arm. “Let’s get him to bed. Something bad must have happened. He’s never done this.”
“I don’t know what that was all about,” Carson said to Shainan when he returned to the kitchen.
“Yes, drinking,” Carson said.
“Drinking,” Carson said slower.
“No, d,rinking, drinking.”
Utu was back in the kitchen almost before they’d realized he’d left. He had an astonished look on his face. It was a combination of being a witness to a disaster and a little boy on Christmas morning. “Look what I found in the Jeep.” Utu threw a Provenger battle gauntlet, without the knives, onto the kitchen table. They stood looking in silence.
“Utu said it ruined his people,” Carson said.
Carson looked back at his father in disbelief. “Sure, Dad.”
“Well, now you have it,” said Utu, surprised at Rick’s confession. What made Rick such a killer, he wondered? Utu checked again to ensure that the tag was on the counter so they could talk without being watched. “This will enable you to cloak yourself. It even has a transport mechanism on it. Anywhere on Earth.” Utu looked up at Rick. “How did you get such a thing?”
“Rick, you took an incredible risk to get this. I think you have done an incredibly stupid, horrible, and great thing. With this,” Utu leaned in closer to Rick, “I think we may be able to rid ourselves of the Provenger.”
“Synster must have his hands full to be so careless to give you such a thing,” said Utu, shaking his head.
“Leave that to me. We must find where I lived before we run out of time. I left something there that I need. Rick, we can defeat them.”
Rick looked back at Utu with doubt. There was much more that Rick didn't feel he should share with Utu just yet. Synster had given him an assignment that seemed to indicate desperation regarding the Project and one that Rick didn’t know if he’d survive. Utu had said that the Provenger only broke their own laws when they went rogue. He didn't mention anything about having others do their dirty work for them.
Rick recalled his last communication with Synster. It seemed that both Synster and Rick had a problem with a certain Provenger. That Provenger had caused the grievous injury to Carson in the belief that he was injuring Rick. Synster had informed Rick that Ryvil had attempted to kill him to remove him from the Project, and to make the U.S. government officials more difficult to manage. Ryvil needed the injury to look natural to his fellow Provenger and authorities on Earth, while making it seem suspicious to those humans who knew of Rick’s work with the Provenger.
"You see," Synster had explained, "if you turn up dead, your brother will panic and believe that his life is in immediate jeopardy. The others in your government that I've contacted will believe the same. The only thing that keeps everyone working together is some hope that they can save themselves, that they have some kind of future. The fear of imminent death would likely cause them to panic and divulge everything they know. If they all did that at once and supported each other's story…now that would be difficult to undo. That would take us one step closer to Managed Collectivization."
"Can't you run this attempt to kill me through your algorithm to see how it happened, or can happen?"
"Unfortunately, no. All such assessments are strictly regulated. It would leave a record. There would be no other logical explanation for this event. Ryvil was trying to kill you. After failing with this stunt, I can't imagine he'd try the same thing again. But he will continue to thwart this project at every opportunity. He has demonstrated that. He must be neutralized. And this is something I cannot do.”
Rick thought about the prospect of successfully killing a Provenger, and, while highly preferable to killing a person, he doubted his efforts could bring success.
Chapter 33
The last of the CaRRian gang
The disappearance of Tony Carrian and nine other men of the area, labelled by the media as the Carrian Gang, created considerable consternation among the populations in town and the surrounding counties. Vigils were held, rumors were traded, and theories were thrown about.
Marcus Holliday, a notoriously unpredictable character, did one of the most responsible things he could have done under the circumstances. He went to the county sheriff’s office and told them what he knew about the incident. He started off belligerent about locking up the pistol he had on his belt and ended up spilling his guts. Obviously, he changed the story a little to make it seem innocent. He’d told them of the planned meeting “to go shooting” and related that it seemed to him that none of them had ever arrived at the designated time and place. He also mentioned that his friend, Tony, had said that if anything bad happened to him, that it probably had something to do with Rick Thompson. He insisted they confront Thompson immediately. When they didn’t indicate that they would, Holliday tried to start interrogating the deputy taking his information, questioning their motives for resolving the disappearance and threatening to go to the media.
What Holliday didn’t mention was that Tony had said that Thompson was with the NSA. Holliday wanted to implicate Thompson, but he didn’t want to sound like an antigovernment kook doing it.
It was a Wednesday evening when a Montezuma County Sheriff’s Deputy rolled up the long driveway to Rick’s place. Detective John Robby had spent the last week running down leads on the case, and this lead seemed to have the most interesting prospects. He knew from talk in the office that Rick’s wife in Denver had recently disappeared and wondered if there was any connection. But then again, there appeared to be a great number of people disappearing lately, all over the world. Now it had come to Cortez.
Robby had come alone for two reasons. The first was that resources in the county were stretched thin and detectives usually worked their cases alone. The second reason was that he didn’t expect to delve too deeply with this interview. He was there to find out what Thompson’s association with Carrian was and assess its relevance and importance. If there seemed to be anything there, he would keep it to himself, act disinterested, go away, and come back with reinforcements.
He’d already done his homework on Thompson: no record, good credit, everything looked standard. He lived in a nice home that appeared to be well kept. A number of deputies in the department knew and liked him. They’d told Robby about his ex-wife. Foul play was not suspected as she was an alcoholic and had been getting herself into trouble lately. Her condition had worsened since she’d lost her son to Thompson, and more recently she’d lost her job. The real intriguing thing about the Thompson angle was that a link to Carrian was made when his home had been searched. Certain paraphernalia at the house indicated that antigovernment sentiments were a general theme. Also, documents, a hand-written log, and a map were found that looked like Carrian had been following Thompson. Robby needed to get this worked out.
Marcus Holliday, the source of the information, on the other hand, was questionable. He had a record; a couple assault charges, no convictions, a DUI reduced to a misdemeanor, a poor credit history, and, according to the deputy that he spoke to, very bad breath. Holliday was known around the county as a self-proclaimed gun slinger. He had the credentials to back it up. He’d won the Four Corners Cowboy Action Quick Draw Championships the last three years in a row. This competition was fired with single action army revolvers and included a variety of stages where the draw and numerous shots were fired at a variety of targets, all usually within a second or two. His significant abilities with this weapon, his habit of carrying it with him everywhere, and his propensity to be a hothead, potentially made Holliday a very dangerous man. In Robby’s mind, these conditions, together with Holliday’s accusation, almost made Holliday the better suspect.
Rick saw the unmarked Crown Victoria rounding a curve about a mile away. He’d been working out front fixing a latch on his gate. He put down his tools and casually walked inside. He found Carson and Utu at the computer reading intently about some place in Turkey. They seemed excited. Shainan wasn’t there. She’d been sleeping late since she started getting morning sickness a couple days ago. Utu had told Rick the day prior to her illness that he could tell she was pregnant.
Rick quickly got their attention. “Guys, police coming up the drive: plan A.”
They acknowledged plan A and turned back to their reading. Rick walked back outside and continued working on the latch. It was getting colder as the sun was setting. The cruiser rolled to a stop and, after making a radio call, the Deputy emerged from the car.
Rick put down his tools and walked over, slowly, expecting either to get grilled about his wife or about Tony Carrian. Here goes, he thought.
“Evening, I hope you have good news about my ex,” he said with some actual sincerity.
“No, sir,” the detective said shaking his head while walking up to Rick. “Actually, no news. I did hear about that, and I’m sorry she hasn’t been located yet.” He stuck out his hand and they shook. “I’m Detective John Robby, Montezuma County.”
“Rick Thompson. Pleased to meet you.”
“I wish I had some good news for you but I’m actually not here for that.” Robby paused, like a good investigator, waiting for Rick to volunteer whatever might be on a guilty mind.
“What can I help you with?” Rick inquired.
“How do you know Tony Carrian?” Robby began abruptly, carefully observing Rick’s reaction.
“Oh yeah,” Rick responded, without much emotion. “Not well. Is this about his disappearance? I saw it on the news and heard people talking.”
“Yes. How do you know him?”
“We’ve spoken a few times. Has he turned up?”
“Possibly,” replied Detective Robby, watching closely for any reaction from Rick, who gave none. “What was the extent of your relationship?”
Rick was expecting some technique to be thrown at him and was ready for anything. He could tell that Robby would be persistent. “Let’s see, I met him the first time out by a plot I own west of 491, about a month ago. He was changing a tire and I stopped to help him, but he didn’t need help. After that, he must have looked me up. I like to be listed. It’s a matter of principle. He called a couple times and wanted me to get involved with his shooting club. I declined. We bumped into each other and had lunch at the Main Street Brewery once, many weeks ago. That’s about it, I think. I may have seen him in town a couple times. I only have a few friends around here. I don’t need many. And because of my work, I don’t particularly like it when people I don’t know approach me.” Rick threw out the bait.
“What’s your work?”
“I’m a systems analyst. We contract for the NSA, keeping various communication systems running. Security is an issue, so I don’t like it when I get approached. I’m a little paranoid I guess, but that doesn’t mean people aren’t after me,” Rick added with a smile. “I usually just represent myself as an IT consultant, so I’d appreciate it if you keep it confidential. It’s not top secret crap, but this is the West, and we do have some folks out here who hate the feds.”
“Sure, I understand. Where were you that night?”
“Let’s see.” Rick looked high and left, where he looks when he’s trying to remember something. “That was on the twenty fifth, right?”
“No, the twenty fourth,” replied Robby.
Rick looked left again, “Okay. Well, I’m pretty sure I was here all day. Carson wasn’t feeling well, so I stuck around and got some chores done.”
“Alright.” Robby was now starting to get the picture. Somehow Carrian knew about Thompson’s work and was following him. Holliday was part of Carrian’s group and probably wanted to throw suspicion on the NSA. One last test, thought Robby. “Did you know any of his friends?”
Rick was about to say “no” then stopped himself. Relieved, he realized he could have just fallen into a trap. If he’d denied knowing Tony’s friends without asking who they were first, it would seem that he was trying too hard to distance himself from the situation.
“I don’t know. Who were his friends?” Rick asked, smooth as silk, relieved he’d dispensed with the north-eastern fast-talking habits of his youth.
Detective Robby listed the names of all the men who had disappeared. Rick acknowledged that he’d read the names in the paper and had been curious about the disappearance, but said he didn’t know any of them.
“How about Marcus Holliday, how do you know him?” asked Robby.
Rick thought for a moment. He genuinely didn’t know the man. “I don’t know him. Well, maybe I’ve heard that name.” Rick sensed an opportunity. “I seem to recall Tony mentioning a Marcus that he was upset with. I don’t know if it was the same guy, but this Marcus shot his neighbor’s dog when it wandered onto his property. Class act, eh?” There was a pause and Rick realized there was a question he must ask. “Detective, why are you asking me all these questions?”
“Just canvassing, really. Talking to everyone who we’ve found out knew them. Do you know of any reason why anyone would want to hurt Mr. Carrian?”
“Well, like I said, I don’t really know him. He seems like a nice guy.” Rick was relieved that “seems” came out, instead of “seemed”.
Robby was satisfied that he didn’t need any more for now. He was going to ask Thompson why he thought Carrian might be following him, but figured that answer had already come out. He could always ask later. “Can I just see some ID to verify your employment?” asked Robby. “And I won’t have to bother you anymore.”
“Sure. You want to come inside?” Rick inquired. “It’ll just take a second,” hoping to God this man didn’t speak Armenian. It was the only potential flaw to their cover.
“No, thanks. I’ll wait out here. I don’t want to intrude anymore,” said Robby, much to Rick’s relief.
Rick got his “Contractor” credentials from inside, returned, and presented them to the deputy as well as offering to give him his supervisor’s phone number for verification.
“No, that won’t be necessary. I’ll contact you if I need anything else,” replied Robby, reviewing the credentials and driver’s license.
Rick noticed a gold ring with a crest on it that he didn’t recognize. “Interesting ring,” Rick observed, trying to be personable.
“It’s Armenian. I got it visiting family there last year. My dad changed our name from Robhanisyan when he immigrated. Can you believe he made me study Armenian most of my life just in preparation for that one trip? What a waste, eh? I should have been learning Spanish.”
“Yeah, isn’t that something,” Rick laughed nervously, the blood pressure draining from his head.
As the deputy drove away, satisfied with the interview, Rick was left very relieved but a little paranoid about him declining to come inside. Was he suspicious? Did he buy it? Would he come back? Except for not being able to speak Armenian, everyone inside had been ready. Carson and Utu had their back stories down cold, and Shainan didn’t need to speak because she would play deaf. And, thanks to the Provenger, the two Cro-Magnons had their papers as well as their shots.
Rick walked inside. “Utu?”
“What?”
“I want you speaking fluent Armenian with a perfect accent in two weeks.”
“Okay. We’ll need that Rosetta Stone thing.”
“Order it.” The caveman was coming along nicely, Rick thought.
Weeks passed without hearing from the deputy again and things seemed to be calming down. Rick was anxious for his chance at Ryvil and wondered when Nwella would confess her sins to the Provenger, begin her banishment, and move in with him. At that point, Rick would find out how his relationship with Synster would evolve.
With Christmas coming, Rick didn’t know who to get presents and stockings for. Certainly Carson. He didn’t want Utu and Shainan to feel left out. Maybe Nwella? Definitely Barnes and Nobelle. Problem was, Christmas wasn’t the only holiday he wasn’t prepared for. It was the calm before the storm.
