Event Horizon, page 22
"Into the city," replied Cass. Dakota felt deja vu hearing the exchange.
"I need to see your IDs first."
Dakota and Cass complied. Dakota felt much safer using his 'real' ID. Margo had instructed them to ditch the fakes once they left Novatera. They had served their purpose.
Examining the IDs, Zaks said, "Sorry about this, but I'm sure you've heard about the bombing and Joseph Walker. He's got more followers in Farson and Wyrd Forest than I'd care to count. Can't be too careful." He handed back the IDs.
"No problem. Can't imagine what it's like," Cass replied.
"Well, transport folks like you are making it better. You're free to go now. Just remember, there's a nine o'clock curfew. Stay out too long, and you won't be getting back in until six the next morning."
"Thanks."
Zaks raised the barrier just long enough for them to pass.
Dakota followed Cass as they walked away from the base. The road, about five kilometers long, separated the base from the town of Farson. Each side of the road was lined with trees. The forest went on for as far as Dakota could see. The hairs on his arms and the back of his neck stood on end. He glanced between the trees, sensing that if he looked at the right spot, he would catch a dark figure stalking them. He pulled his jacket tighter.
"Hey, wait up," Cass told him.
Dakota had quickened his pace without realizing it. He apologized and slowed down so Cass could catch up.
The forest finally gave way to a downtown area filled with a variety of shops, businesses, and public places. Most buildings were small, no taller than two or three stories. People milled about, going along with their daily routines. Dakota noticed most people traveling by foot. Few cars dotted the roads. On every other street corner, there stood a military guard, waiting for any kind of emergency and secretly hoping for an uneventful shift.
At the end of the main street stood what remained of the Novateran Embassy. Yellow police tape surrounded the tower of warped metal. Fragments of broken glass and charred rubble littered the blackened sidewalk. People crossed to the other side of the street when passing by, averting their eyes. Next to the site was a sign that read "No Trespassing. Violators Will Be Prosecuted".
"Are you okay?" Cass asked, her voice low. "I know you're not because... I mean, this place..." She gestured towards the ruins.
"It's disturbing, that's all," he replied, never taking his eyes off the former building. The site alternated between the present and New Year's Eve. The building on fire, glass shards raining down, people screaming, running. Authorities demanding the identities of those responsible. Joseph Walker taking the credit. People unsure whose side they ought to be on.
"Let's go," Cass said, tugging on his jacket sleeve.
They turned left and walked along the edge of a small shopping district. None of the shops seemed very active. An icy wind rushed past them, chilling Dakota. He looked at his watch. Four-thirty. An hour and a half gone. The sun was low in the sky, dying it a deep red.
"Think we should head back?"
"We still have time. Plus, we should try to get a ride. It's freezing."
Now that she mentioned it, Dakota could not feel his fingers and toes. He felt like he was back on Cadmus, surrounded by snow.
Cass paused and looked at the side of a building. "Look at this!"
Dakota peered at the brick siding and saw two eyes, one blue and one green, spray painted on the wall. The exact same eyes from his dreams. They glared down at him, judging his every move. Written underneath in black was "He's watching you".
A heavy pit formed in Dakota's gut. Zora had said those same words. He had hoped it was a weird coincidence and not connected to his dreams. But they were seers. There were no coincidences. But why did the eyes have to be here, of all places?
"What do you think it means?" Cass asked, fascinated by the image.
Dakota shook his head, unable to look away. His throat had gone dry, and his tongue felt like lead. His face grew warm, the eyes burning him.
"Joseph Walker."
Dakota and Cass jumped at the sound. They whirled around and saw a man in his early thirties, dressed in rumpled clothes that were a size too large, standing on the sidewalk. Tufts of black hair stuck out from underneath his striped hat.
"Sorry. Didn't mean to scare ya," the man apologized.
"It's nothing," said Cass. "So that Walker guy painted them?"
The man shook his head. "No, but one of his followers did. They're all over town. The police paint over them, but as soon as they're done, a new one pops up. You guys must be new here."
"Yes," said Dakota. "We're with a transport craft. We should probably head back now." He walked towards the sidewalk, wanting to get far away from the painting. The blue and green eyes glared at him, burning away his skin layer by microscopic layer. He had to get away. Get away before it was too late!
Too late for what?
"I got a car," said the man. "It's parked a few blocks that way. I could drive ya if that's okay. I'm Wilf, by the way. Wilfred Ericksen."
"We would love a ride," Cass replied first. "I'm Cass Rosen, and this is Nate Kennet."
Dakota looked the man over and sensed nothing malicious. He was as genuine as he appeared. And a ride back to the base would be much better than walking through the woods at sundown. Not to mention the temperature had dropped a good ten degrees.
"If you don't mind."
"No, don't mind at all." Wilf beamed a smile. "And the mils won't have a problem with it either. I'm on the base three, sometimes four times a week."
Wilf Ericksen turned and headed down the road. Cass followed close behind, her steps light. Dakota trailed after them, not that he had a choice. Riding back or walking alone. Heading down the sidewalk, the menacing blue and green eyes plagued his mind. But the pain dissipated. The sensation of needing to run, to get away, vanished.
***
Margo made her way through the spaceport to the military headquarters. Formerly the head office for the local lumber company. She glanced back every once in a while to make sure Eli was still following her. Their deal with Graiko had really screwed with his head. But it wasn't like they had much of a choice. Hell, if she had refused, they could all be serving time in the Atlas System for life.
And the deal had some flexibility. Graiko did not expect them to arrive for several months. A lot could go down in that time. There was no guarantee they would ever get to Dionysus. Then Nate had verbally signed his resignation. Small chance he would leave Bedlam with them. How would Graiko respond if she never showed? That was a problem for another day.
"Halt," ordered the guard at the headquarters’ entrance, glaring at them. The kid was maybe twenty years old. "State your name and business."
"Margo Symms, captain of transport craft Event Horizon, delivering supplies from Novatera and Sigma. And this is my crew member, Elisha Carnaki."
The guard pulled a small tablet out of his front pocket. He typed in the names and waited a moment.
"You're clear." He allowed Margo and Eli to enter.
Bright fluorescent lights hung from the ceiling. Another guard in the front room handed Margo a small stack of forms, indicating there she should sign and initial. Paper documents. Must be very important. The only other person who used paper, as far as she knew, was Raoul Gaines.
Once that was over, she followed the makeshift signs with arrows to the office of Captain Weston Christie, the officer assigned to this post.
Margo started to knock on the open door but stopped when she noticed several other transport captains crowding the officer's desk. Some of whom she recognized. Yokan Watanabe of the Celestial Wing. Zarah Breton of the Bellerophon. Galen Alev of the Blue Dawn. None of these people were one hundred percent legitimate. Zarah herself had worked for Gaines on two occasions Margo knew of.
"Are you the last one?" Captain Christie asked her. Purple stripes decorated the arms of his uniform.
"As far as I can tell."
He counted the number of people and asked for the names of their crafts. "Damn. Still four short. What's taking everyone so long?"
"The damn war!" somebody called out. A handful of people laughed, and a few others told them to shut up.
"All right," said Christie, gaining control of the room. "Since most of you are here, I'll explain the situation. The Novateran Embassy here in Farson was bombed sixteen days ago. The local authorities and military personnel have tried and failed to locate the anarchist Joseph Walker, who has claimed responsibility. A few of his followers have been taken into custody, but nobody's talking. One man even snuck in a knife and used it to slice open his own tongue so he wouldn't be tempted.”
Shocked and disgusted murmurs spread through the small office. One person had to step outside for air. Margo was not sure if she ought to be concerned or impressed by that kind of loyalty.
Christie continued, "We are certain that Walker and his closest followers are hiding out in Wyrd Forest. They have been smart enough to learn our tactics and surveillance capabilities in order to better conceal themselves. While you and your crews are here, you will aid the local community and gain their trust. Most of the townsfolk are ferociously loyal to Walker, and even those who aren't anarchists won't talk about him. Listen to every word they say, and maybe someone will slip up. Anything to help us bring him to justice. Any questions?"
"Yeah, how many followers does this guy have?" asked Galen Alev. He always liked knowing which cards were on the table and what his odds were before making a bet.
"At least a hundred, maybe more. We theorize that only a few, less than ten, are in his inner circle. If we learn their identities, we find Walker."
Margo raised her hand and asked, "How are we supposed to believe anything the locals say about Walker? If they love him so much, wouldn't they lie to protect him?"
Christie let out a frustrating sigh. "We've run into issues with that. Some false leads have dragged my people halfway across the planet. That's why we thought a civilian presence might help."
"Then how do you know he's close by?" Margo questioned. She did not like the way this situation was turning. Yet another job with a hidden agenda.
"Because there has never been a false report of him in Wyrd Forest. That and Walker spending his whole life in Farson means that he's more than likely here. Any more questions?"
"How much are we getting paid?" someone asked.
"Each crew will receive a thousand credits per day. For two weeks at most. Don't think you can get more pay by dragging this mission out."
"What about rewards for Walker's capture?"
"To be determined. Anyone else?"
Nobody spoke. They had the information they wanted.
"Very well. Dismissed."
Margo left the room, thinking about the secondary nature of the job. How she was tricked into thinking it was a quick supply run. How Gaines had tricked her into going to Novatera. To the freaking capital. She was sick of it.
Exiting the building, Margo wrapped her jacket tighter around herself as a biting wind rushed by. Why did Novatera have to pick a town so far up north for their embassy? The next job better be somewhere tropical.
The sun had sunk below the tree line. Eli walked up beside her. Under his breath, he said, "This is stupid."
"How's that?" She kept walking, glancing over to make sure no one was within listening distance.
"If the military can't find him, how are we supposed to? Why not hire mercenaries like on Helios?"
"Strength in numbers, perhaps? Several dozen transporters as opposed to two or three mercenaries."
"There's Cass and Nate," Eli said, pointing at a blue-ish green ground car which was parked near the entryway. Cass and Nate, mostly Cass, were speaking with a disheveled man. The man looked like he had chosen his clothing at random and had not bothered to comb his hair.
Margo stopped a passing soldier and asked him, "Is he with you?"
The soldier shook his head. He was no more than a boy. His eyes were as black as his hair, and he had a bronze complexion. He stood head and shoulders taller than Margo. "No, he's from Farson. I think his name is Ericksen. He's been helping us out, giving us free rides into town."
"Could he be one of Walker's people?"
The young soldier laughed, surprised by the question. "Doubt it. He's a nice enough guy, but he's not what I would call a scholar. If he knew anything about Walker, I think he would have slipped up by now. The guy is harmless."
Margo thanked the soldier, making a mental note of Ericksen. She and Eli walked over to Cass and Nate.
"And if you ever need another ride," said Ericksen with a big smile on his face, "just look out for this car. I'll be close by."
"We definitely will," said Cass. She and Nate thanked him. No matter where they were or what the job was, Cass never failed to make a friend.
"Care to introduce me?" Margo asked them.
Cass said, "Margo, this is Wilf Ericksen. Wilf, this is our boss Margo Symms, and this is our crewmate, Eli Carnaki."
Wilf shook hands with both of them. That big smile never faded. If he was a spy for Walker, he was dedicated to the part.
"Must be weird living so close to the bombing," Margo said to Wilf, focused on his expressions.
Wilf stuffed his hands into his coat pockets and looked down at the ground. "Yeah, I guess. Nobody ever expected that kind of thing to happen way out here. My buddy and I was talking about it just the other day. He's real pissed off."
"Really?" Margo raised an eyebrow. "No love for anarchists, then." This friend might be willing to sell out Walker. Perhaps this job wouldn't be too difficult, after all.
Wilf shrugged. "Well, Seth's always been an outspoken guy. But when he heard that innocent people got hurt, people who lived in Farson their whole lives..." Wilf's eyes widened and he shook his head very slowly. "I've never seen him so mad!"
"Seth? Your friend's name is Seth?" asked Nate. Tears welled in his eyes, but none fell. He bit down on his lip.
Great, thought Margo, that's the last name he needs to hear. The old man's death had completely caught the kid off guard. The catalyst for him wanting to leave Event Horizon. No, the catalyst was her viewing his message, learning of the old man's death first. There had been no need for her to watch the video, only to click the button that said 'approved'. She was merely looking for information she could use to her advantage. Had Nate told Cass that he was leaving yet?
"Yeah," said Wilf, smiling ear to ear. "He's kind of hard to get to know, but he's a real great guy. Honest."
"Maybe we can meet him someday," said Cass after a moment. She glanced at Nate in order to see his reaction and make sure the statement hadn't upset him.
Could have lied about watching that message. Nate would have been none the wiser. And he would not be planning to leave. Maybe. She had shot her own plan to hell.
"Not so sure about that," replied Wilf. "He's real private and... What's that word that means you like to spend a lot of time alone?"
"Introverted?" Cass suggested.
"Yeah, that! But he might meet you if I talk to him first."
"That would be great," said Nate, a forced smile on his face. Not a glimmer of that smile was reflected in his eyes. He gazed downward, not looking at anything in particular.
"We need to get back to the craft," said Margo. It would not do Nate any good to dwell on Seth Seward. No amount of grief would bring the old man back.
They all said goodbye to Wilf and watched as he drove off towards the town. On their way back, Cass told Margo and Eli about the eyes painted on a wall and its connection to Joseph Walker. Margo half listened and observed their surroundings. Military and transport personnel moved in every direction. Few paid attention to them. The forest surrounded them on all sides.
Margo could have sworn, out of the corner of her eye, that she saw a dark figure move between the trees.
37
Welcome to Farson
"What's going on?" Dakota asked Donovan as he walked towards the center of the base. A large crowd had gathered outside the main barracks. He had just finished eating, or rather picking at, his breakfast, and decided to get some fresh air.
"I think it's one of the soldiers' birthdays."
Dakota moved closer to the crowd. A birthday party. Finally, an event to lighten the mood. Tensions between crew members were still on the rise. Hugo and Eli were no longer on speaking terms, and Donovan spent more of his time away from the craft. Margo acted like she didn't notice. And the tall, looming trees gave Dakota a sense of being trapped. That he would never escape this world.
The crowd sang, "Happy birthday to Graiko, happy birthday to you!"
"Graiko?" Dakota thought he had misheard. He edged closer. In the center of the crowd, he spied a young man no older than himself who bore a striking resemblance to Emperor Rowland: bronze skin with black hair and long, thin limbs. Though he was not as tall as the emperor, he stood a head taller than most. But there was one difference. His eyes were dark brown. Just like his mother's, Dakota sensed. An image of Zoe Graiko flashed in his mind. Zoe and Sam standing side by side at Colmekell Spaceport, seeing their oldest son leave for war.
Dakota forced his mind back to the present. Sure enough, the word Graiko was on the young soldier's nametag, the exact same spelling.
Once the song ended, the crowd quickly dispersed, returning to their morning duties. Many congratulated the soldier, patting him on the back. As he turned to leave, Dakota asked him, "Are you from Dionysus?"
"Yeah," Graiko replied. "A small town in the middle of nowhere. Are you from there, too?"
"In a way. It's just, you have the same last name as Emperor Rowland."
Graiko's face flushed red. His eyes darted to the left and right, and then in a hushed voice he said, "It doesn't mean anything. Very common name..." He trailed off. Graiko did not have to be a seer to sense that Dakota was not buying it. "Okay, yes. I'm his nephew Jude. Sam's kid, not Myrddin's," he clarified.
"That's incredible," Dakota said, smiling. Smiling for the first time since Seth's death. "I'm one of Cantara's friends. I just saw her and your uncle on Novatera a few weeks ago."
